Idyllic
by Sarah1281
Summary: It was a secret war they pretended didn't exist for so long but eventually they all became aware of it and then there was no going back for any of them. The ending was almost inevitable but it's the journey that matters. Snapshots of the Berenson family.
1. Name

Idyllic

Name

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

It occurred to me, as I was trying desperately to pretend that I wasn't at the funeral of the brother I had had killed, that I had no idea what his name was. The Yeerk's, that is. I had lived with him for three years…or so I thought. I had lived with him long enough that he had been in a great deal of trouble for failing to notice what I really was, long enough that he felt that he could have killed me 'a million times.' I was of the opinion that if he had paid the slightest bit of attention to me that he didn't absolutely had to to keep his cover that he would have and, given that nightmarish future I had seen one night in my dreams, I was grateful that he hadn't. Not only did I not have a name to think of him as but I didn't even know how long he had been there. It might have been since Temrash had been reassigned but for all I knew there could have been a third Yeerk that took that second's spot, a fourth that took the third's, who knew how many. I hadn't noticed but then I wouldn't have noticed when Temrash was replaced had it not been for my own encounter with him.

Well…there might have been one difference. Before my infestation, Temrash would regularly attempt to get me involved in the Sharing. After the new Yeerk came, he didn't really bother. I have no idea why. Maybe I really annoyed Temrash while the new Yeerk was more apathetic. Maybe the new Yeerk saw Temrash's continued failure and gave it up as a lost cause. Had I been the normal thirteen-year-old that I was supposed to be when the Yeerk first came then I really wouldn't have been worth all the effort when I clearly wasn't interested anyway.

I thought that it was probably the same Yeerk since Temrash as I hadn't noticed any behavioral changes aside from an increase in stress near the end which was more than understandable but then I had been looking for the changes after Temrash died. What he had said about never being promoted despite all his work certainly made it sound like it was the same one. Host changes usually came with a promotion, right? That was the way it had happened with Temrash at least. I'll be the first to admit that I'm hardly an expert on the intricacies of Yeerk society, though.

I had lived with this Yeerk for the better part of three years. Granted, we spent most of that time pretending that he didn't exist but three years is a very long time. It was a bulk of the war and certainly felt like an eternity. How was it that I had never once managed to learn who he was? It wasn't like I cared for the Yeerk's sake, far from it. The Yeerk and my brother were two separate people. When I think of the time my brother was a Controller before I got infested I can separate them. It was Tom and Temrash. Temrash was the one who had wanted me killed or at the very least infested over a suspicion that I _might_ have been one of the kids in the construction site the night this all began (the fact he was right was entirely irrelevant). Chapman said that they couldn't kill me because it would attract too much attention but I never did find out why they didn't try to infest me. I'm grateful, of course, and it cost them dearly but the reason is a mystery. Tom was the one who had saved my life the night I first braved the Yeerk Pool trying to save him. The irony isn't lost on me but I suppose that's what big brothers do.

With the other Yeerk…the Yeerk was the one who tried to kill my father, who might have killed me as I slept in a nightmare reality, who had infested my parents, who had taken the morphing cube, who had tried to have me killed. And yet. And yet I couldn't really think that 'the Yeerk' had done all of that, partly because it was too vague. There were a lot of Yeerks, after all. I tended to think that _Tom_ had done it even though I knew that my brother had done no such thing. That had bothered me for awhile but I hadn't realized just how much until that day on the Pool Ship when Marco was talking about how _Tom_ was planning on killing us all.

Tom hadn't been planning on doing that. The Yeerk had. But try as I might the closest I could get was 'Tom's Yeerk.' Funny. Phrasing it like that implied ownership, didn't it, and if anything it was the other way around. I didn't know how long that Yeerk had been in my brother, I didn't know what to call him, I didn't even know when Temrash had first come on the scene. I had seen the day my brother had first gotten infested but it wasn't like the memory had come with a calendar. I had known even before realizing that he had to be a Controller we had been drifting apart for a year or so and that he had been spending an increasing amount of time at the Sharing. Had he been a Controller for a full year before I had noticed? What kind of a brother was I? Then again, what kind of brother had their sibling assassinated?

I wasn't even sure if I wanted to know how long my brother had been a Controller. There really was no 'better' when dealing with things such as this but there was certainly a worse. Would it be worse to have an exact date that he had been infested on and to know that anything after, say, the September I started seventh grade wasn't really him? Or is it worse now that I have no idea except that it had been some time before I met Elfangor? On the one hand, knowing without a doubt that precious memories that I had held dear were fake would have killed me. On the other, having no idea if the boy in those memories was real or not was killing me now. And even if I did know that he was infested on a certain day, it's not like I would have been able to remember perfectly what had come before or after that day so I still wouldn't have been absolutely sure.

Marco and I talked about this once not long after we found out his mother was still alive. Neither of us really came to a conclusion about which would have been harder to take because both choices were pretty bad. I think if Marco had to choose, he'd want a date. It wouldn't make him happy but he's always been one to face reality, no matter how unpleasant. I guess that's how he made it through those two years when his father…wasn't handling his mother's disappearance well, to put it mildly.

My parents, seated on either side of me in the front row, were openly crying. It was strange but after everything I'd been through and everything I'd seen over these past three years, it still made me uncomfortable to see my parents in tears. My eyes were almost painfully dry. It wasn't like I didn't want to cry; I did and what's more I _should_. It was my brother's funeral, after all, and I had played a large role in his death. I couldn't, though. I just felt so numb.

I almost hadn't attended the service. Rachel's service had been only a few days prior and I wasn't sure I was up to attending another one. That funeral had had a body and Tobias had reappeared briefly to scatter her ashes. Tom…Tom had died a snake and the Yeerks hadn't bothered to jettison his body before they had left like they had Rachel's. I guess it was…decent of them to do so with her although since they had killed her first I could hardly be grateful to them. I wondered what had happened to Tom's body. It killed me that he hadn't even been able to die in his own body. Maybe a Taxxon ate him. I really didn't want to think about it.

I was here for only two reasons. The first being that since Tom's death was largely my fault – largely but not completely, the Yeerk had made his decision – I felt a sense of obligation to be here, as if that could somehow make any of this any better. The second, less easy to ignore, reason was that my parents had asked me to come. I had only just been reunited with them after all those weeks since I was forced to abandon them to the Yeerks and I didn't think I could say no to anything they asked of me right now. I'm not sure what I had expected (to be honest I hadn't allowed myself to hope that I would someday be reunited with them and until I saw them standing there I hadn't even known if they still lived) but it certainly hadn't been for them to hug me as if they were planning to never let go and to tell me how proud they were of me. I hadn't expected forgiveness but for some reason they saw fit to grant it. Given what my mistake had cost them, I wasn't about to start telling them that they were handling this wrong.

I think that that might actually be the worst part. Getting them infested was possibly the biggest mistake I had ever made and I've made quite a few big ones in my time. I had never wanted my parents to know about the Yeerks at all – as impractical as that seems now – and I certainly didn't want them to have to find out about the invasion from the Yeerks in their own heads (whose names I also didn't know but since my parents were still alive and I had only seen my infested parents once I didn't really care). Just the same…if I hadn't failed to save my family then the Yeerk in Tom wouldn't have been punished for failing to find me because he'd have died of Kandrona starvation. He wouldn't have been able to get away with the morphing cube and Cassie may not have stopped me from killing a random Controller trying to escape with it. The Taxxons wouldn't have seen a way out of their terrible hunger and allied with us. Tom's Yeerk wouldn't have gotten us onto the Pool Ship. We wouldn't have won.

Maybe we would have found another way but it seems unlikely. We had to take the Pool Ship and we only got a chance to because the Yeerk in my brother had wanted us eaten alive and knowing that we had been betrayed instead of being quickly zapped by a Gleet Biofilter. We _might_ have found another way but we barely won as it is. Our victory was unlikely enough as it is. I don't know what would have happened had things been different but I do know that with the way things turned out, we did manage to win. Maybe I could have gotten my parents out and still had everything work out but Tom…sad as it is, I don't think we could have won without his Yeerk.

If I had saved my family, I might have doomed the human race.

"_Then maybe Tom is the enemy," _Marco had said once. _"Maybe it's your own brother you'll end up destroying."_

Marco had been right. He usually was.

I did what I had to do. I did my duty. I did my best. Always.

Why hadn't that been enough?

Review Please!


	2. The Dock Incident

The Dock Incident

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_My father and Tom were sitting down at the end of the dock, talking and dangling their feet in the water. My father laughed and gave Tom's shoulders a quick, spontaneous hug. Tom's sweatshirt bunched up in the back. Revealing, for a moment, the gleaming dagger wedged in his pocket. My father didn't notice it. He laughed again and removed his arm. ... But I was still only halfway to the dock when Tom withdrew the glittering dagger. CCCRRRRAAAACCCCKKKK! The sharp sound split the night. My father and Tom looked up in shock as the wooden dock tilted and collapsed with a screech...Tom and my father both slipped into the water. _

-Animorphs #31.

The floorboard creaked softly and my eyes snapped open. I never sleep very well away from home and this fold-out couch Jean and I were sharing was hardly built for comfort. Given the fact that this house rarely had so many visitors, I was probably lucky the couch was a fold-out one at all. With the reason for our trip being as unfortunate as they were, I knew this was just something I'd have to keep to myself. Old houses sometimes made noises for no real reason but I looked around for the source of the sound anyway.

Tom was standing at the entrance of the room in his old red sweatshirt and looking a little uncomfortable. He jerked his head towards the door once he saw that I was awake and I knew what he wanted.

Immediately, I got up and as I pulled on my discarded clothes I glanced at the clock. Two in the morning. Lovely. The wake would be held later today but Tom wouldn't wake me up at two in the morning to talk if it weren't important. Honestly, I haven't been sleeping well since I heard about Grandpa G's death, comfortable sleeping arrangements or no. Part of it was the fact that my wife's grandfather had just died and I couldn't be there to support her. I had always liked the man as well so, no matter how old he was, losing him was a blow. That wasn't the only reason, though.

Tom has always been a good kid but it seems that over the last few years he's just stepped in up and now he's almost _too_ well-behaved. I remember what it was like to be a teenager (I maintain that it wasn't _that_ long ago despite now having two teenage sons of my own) and know that no matter how wonderful a kid is, nobody's perfect. Teenagers are under a lot of stress to make important life decisions and all those raging hormones – not just the ones that convince them that girls don't have cooties – don't help matters.

I love my sons and I've very proud of them but I don't expect saints. If they can't screw up when they're young and have us to fall back on, when can they? Somehow, though, Tom never seems to make these classic teenager mistakes or if he does I never hear about them. I can't quite decide if I should be thankful or concerned. I can't exact talk to him about it because what could I say? I want him to get into _more_ trouble? That hardly seems like responsible parenting right there.

Jake would be the same way if it weren't for the fact that there have been times that he's come home way past curfew with no explanation. At least he doesn't try to argue himself out of being grounded in those cases. But despite the sleepless nights Jake's given us while Jean and I – and sometimes Tom – wait around silently praying that we'd see our son again, I am glad to see some signs of what I'd consider normal teenage behavior. I'd just rather he miss curfew by a few hours less.

Given how responsible Tom usually is, it caught me completely off guard how vehement he was about not coming up here for the funeral. It's not like I expected him to be _happy_ about having to drive eight hours into the middle of nowhere – I had never liked the drive either and was a little envious that Jean had gotten to fly there – but Grandpa G was family and he was dead and so we had to come and pay our respects. Tom's initial reaction surprised me but not quite as much as the fact that he has continued to sulk about it ever since learning that we were leaving. It was just four days. Surely he could stand to be away from Santa Barbara for a little over half a week.

I normally consider myself to have a good relationship with my sons – not perfect but that's to be expected – and so this thing with Tom's been bothering me for days. I didn't want to fight but I wasn't about to back down and let him disrespect his great-grandfather because he wanted to hang out with his friends (his friends who support family values, might I add!) and he didn't seem ready to compromise either. He might have been sullen even on the ride up but now that we're here that's not much point arguing. If he wants to try and make things right between us then I don't care what I'm doing or how early it is, I'm completely on board.

Tom was leaning against the cabin waiting for me when I got outside. "Do you want to go sit out on the dock?"he asked quietly.

I nodded. "I've always loved the lake," I remarked as we made our way down to the end of the dock. I opened my mouth to ask Tom what he wanted to talk about but decided against it and shut it again. I'd let him bring it up when he was ready. Swallowing your pride and apologizing was never easy, I knew, and I didn't want to put him on the spot. If nothing else, I'd hate to have gotten up at two in the morning for what ultimately turned out to be a waste of my time.

"I always forget how nice the lake is," Tom admitted, sitting down on the edge of the dock and dipping his feet into the lake. "Back home, it seems like such a long trip for a little scenery, no matter how peaceful it is."

I pulled off my socks and let my feet dangle in the water as well. "And what about right now?" I prompted.

"Now I remember why I like it here," Tom replied serenely. He made a face. "I'm still not looking forward to the drive home, though."

Like father, like son. I laughed. "If it weren't for the fact that we need to get the car home, I'd be tempted to just fly back."

Tom grinned. "You know…only one person technically needs to get the car home and Mom got to fly up."

"We'll see what your mother has to say about that," I told him, still chuckling. Jean would never go along with it, of course, but at least a man can dream.

Tom's grin slowly faded and he shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, Dad…"

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I know that this is a weird time to be having a heart-to-heart but I couldn't sleep," Tom confessed. "All I've been able to think about is this fight we've been having."

I said nothing, merely nodded encouragingly.

"I don't even know what to say. All week I've been upset because I didn't want to leave Santa Barbara and because I have a lot going on but…" Tom trailed off and shook his head. "Grandpa G is _dead_. I don't know why this just hit me now. It just doesn't seem real, you know?"

I nodded again, understanding exactly what he meant. My nephew Saddler had only vanished after receiving supposedly mortal wounds and then making a miraculous recovery a few months ago and I still had difficulty accepting it. The boy had only been sixteen and George and Ellen were devastated. And of course, Saddler was Tom and Jake's cousin (even if they hadn't exactly been close) so I knew they were having a hard time dealing with it as well, particularly Jake.

"But that doesn't excuse how I've been acting," Tom said firmly. "And so I wanted to apologize. I was out of line and you really didn't need the added stress."

I felt a slow smile spread across my face. Now _that_ was the Tom that I remembered, messing up on occasions but always quick to try and make amends the minute he realize that he was in the wrong. "Thank you."

"Does this mean that you accept my apology?" Tom asked, a little anxiously.

"Of course I do," I said seriously. "And I always will. No matter what ever happens between us or how bad a fight gets, I want you to know that you can always come to me and that it's never too late to make it right." My words are a little on the ominous side, I know, but Tom hasn't been the only one who was upset with our fight. I know that whenever Jake was in the same room as the two of us he looked like he expected one of us to physically attack the other and that didn't sit right with me.

Tom nodded, equally solemn. "I know."

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. It didn't appear that there was much more to say but despite how tired I had been a few minutes ago and how exhausted I knew I'd be at the wake, I didn't move. It really was peaceful out here and the world was a different place at two in the morning. It was almost like Tom and I were the only people around.

Tom broke the silence. "You know," he said in a conversational tone. "It's a really good thing that you feel that way."

Given our previous subject of conversation, I was instantly suspicious. "Oh? And why is that?"

"No reason in particular," Tom claimed. "It's just useful to know for when you eventually catch onto the fact that whenever you and Mom leave the house for longer than an hour I throw a wild party…I shouldn't have said that."

I laughed and gave Tom's shoulders a quick, spontaneous hug. I may hate fighting with my family but making up almost makes it worth it. "Oh, really? There have been chronic wild parties?"

Tom grinned mischievously. "Why do you think I wanted to stay home this weekend? I had to reschedule and I'd already paid the DJ."

I laughed again and removed my arm. "I would apologize for the inconvenience but I think that it might be best if I disavow all knowledge of your illicit partying."

"That certainly seems to be working out for Jake," Tom said agreeably.

"Now he's in on it?" I exclaimed in mock-outrage. "Is there anyone who _doesn't_ know about this?"

Tom thought for a moment. "Yeah," he answered. "Mom."

"Well, I would hope that you at least had the sense to keep it a secret from-" I started to say before a loud CCCRRRRAAAACCCKKK cut me off.

I looked up in shock as the formerly sturdy dock started to collapse into the water. I couldn't believe it. This dock had been perfectly safe in all the years I'd been coming up here, the earliest of which predated my wedding to Jean! Maybe that was the problem, the age. The reasons why the dock was collapsing wasn't my problem right now, though, but rather getting out of this. I scrabbled to hold on but there was nothing to hold on to. The planks had all folded in on themselves.

I fell into the water.

Note: So I could keep going but we already know what happens next: Steve tries to get to Tom but is pulled away by an Animorph, eventually gets to land, calls 911 for Tom.

Review Please!


	3. Unexpected Opportunity

Unexpected Opportunity

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I hated having to go hostless for longer than the time it took me to feed but I understood. I was finally being recognized for all of my hard work and loyalty and was just a few short hours – if that – away from making the single most important infestation in our Earth conquest. By all accounts, the human governor had a strong chance to become the president already but with Yeerk money and well-placed infestations it was practically a guarantee. Soon, I was going to be instrumental to our taking this planet and I couldn't be more pleased. If I played my part well, I might even make it to Sub-Visser. There were so many possibilities opening up to me now, just as soon as the governor was brought to me.

I had to say that the best thing about my change of rank was going to be my change of host. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand why we're sticking to a covert invasion for now. The Andalites are barely even aware that we're on this planet and there are so very many incredibly violent humans. We could take this planet by force now if we so chose but we'd definitely take a hit and we were making a lot of progress even now.

That said…I am forced to admit that I do not like having to pretend to be a human. As the human governor I would spend a lot of time doing just that but at least there was some greater goal there: the White House and a greater access for my fellow Yeerks to the other leaders of America which will definitely speed up the invasion.

My previous experience playing at being human has been pretending to be a sixteen-year-old male called Tom Berenson and the only purpose that ever seemed to serve was in making sure people didn't realize that I existed which was actually a little depressing. I had at least managed to bring many of the people he saw on a regular basis into the Sharing and so there were plenty of times that I could drop the act but his family just wasn't interested. Steve cited his busy schedule and Jean felt that it was a 'young people' organization. I was certain that I could eventually convince Jean otherwise and when everyone else were members, Steve could be persuaded to join as a 'family bonding' experience. The problem with that, of course, was Jake. Jake had been persistently disinterested in the Sharing (which he had initially called a cult) for quite some time but a few months back I had thought I had made some progress when he agreed to go to a single meeting of the Sharing. He had seemed to be enjoying himself but something must have happened because afterwards he seemed even more against the Sharing than he had been before. So much for my plan to use his infestation to infest his mother and eventually his father. I suppose my successor is welcome to keep working at it but it's no longer my problem.

While I am a very loyal Yeerk, I know that I probably wouldn't have been so keen on getting my host's family infested if it hadn't been for the inconvenience _not_ having them infested posed to me. Not only did I have to be in character every minute that I was at home – and, as a sixteen-year-old I was required to be there quite a bit – but any Yeerk-related activity (even feeding!) that took place outside of the times my host's parents were alright with me being out meant I had to sneak out or, failing that, try to reschedule. Imagine having to plan an invasion around a _curfew_. Fortunately, my new host was going to be far too old to have that problem and if his wife was going to be a problem, she could simply be infested. Jake may not have been old enough or important enough to forcibly infest to solve my problems but my new host's wife definitely would be and the last thing we needed was her suspecting an affair.

I wondered vaguely if the governor could be convinced to aid us voluntarily. He was too important to risk revealing ourselves to and then being shot down and possibly getting the word of our presence out but maybe we could appeal to his ambition or any other weakness I could find. It would be a change, having an willing host. My three previous hosts had all been involuntary, of course. My Gedd had barely even been aware of what was going on and not even worth the effort of trying to persuade. My Hork-Bajir had clung to their tiring credo of 'Free or Dead!' and couldn't or wouldn't see how much easier things would be for him if he just stopped resisting me. As for my human…well, I had had to leave right when things had started looking up on that front. He had been infested by accident and had been fighting me for over a year but just a few days ago he'd finally agreed to be more compliant in exchange for leaving Jake alone as long as I possibly could. As I hadn't been making any progress on the 'get Jake infested' front and it was starting to get pathetic just how many times Jake had turned down the invitation to join the Sharing, it wasn't exactly a hard choice. I just wish I had managed that sooner…

There was a sudden increase of heat accompanied by a loss in the stability of the pool. The liquid, which had previously been reasonably calm given that there were several dozen of us in here, had now begun to move about violently. The temperature had previously been quite comfortable but was now far too warm and only increasing. A fellow Yeerk hit me from behind and I could feel it spasm slightly before ceasing to move at all. What was going on? I knew that we were going to be kept in a Jacuzzi to hide us in the hospital but…it couldn't be. Had the Jacuzzi been turned on? Were we being boiled alive? How could this be? They had know better than to leave the pool unattended where a human could stumble upon it!

I had to get out of here. I had come too far to just die here helplessly. But…how? I was hostless and had no way to get out of the pool. Was I supposed to try to scooch my way up the sides of the Jacuzzi? Even if I could manage that, which I had no guarantee of, what then? I wouldn't survive long outside of a liquid or a host. Still…there was a chance that someone would come by, realize what happened to the pool, and save me. If this didn't happen, I was likely to face a far longer death as I dried out. Was it worth the risk? I needed to decide quickly because I didn't know how much time I had before I died as well.

I was still trying to decide this when a large splash hit the pool. This was a new variable and I quickly used my sonar to detect what it was. A head. There was a body _right there_, right when I needed an escape. I wasn't sure how that had come to pass – especially as someone trying to save us would have just unplugged the Jacuzzi – but I would understand soon enough. I swam as quickly as I was able to over to the body and, after first making sure that this was a live body, entered the ear canal. Normally, I would take the time to numb the ear canal on my way in to save the host – and, more importantly, me when I was fully in – the pain of the procedure but I didn't think I had the time. All I needed was to get to the safety of the brain and figure out what was going on.

I connected to the brain just as a human voice was yelling, "Get them! Attack. Attack!"

There was a battle raging, I realized. It would appear that the Andalite Bandits had discovered what we were doing and had come to shut us down. As I was _supposed_ to be in the Jacuzzi-pool right now, I couldn't possibly be blamed for this but, knowing Visser Three, I really didn't want to take that chance. I suppose they learned of our plan when they infiltrated the Sharing the other day. No one had been sure that the Visser wasn't just being paranoid again (though I was far too eager to live to say anything of the sort) until a bird had swooped in to rescue the dying roach. After that it had been fairly obvious and Visser Three was smug about that for the rest of the meeting which was quite fortunate because if he wasn't he probably would have been focused on the fact that the Andalite had gotten away.

Digging through the first memory I could find showed me who my new host was. Jake Berenson, the boy who I just could not get to the Sharing was now a Controller thanks to me. The irony really was sweet. I must confess, he had really been the last person I had expected to find myself in but I didn't have to stay in him forever, just long enough to find the governor. Although why he was even here in the first place was still a mystery as I hadn't accessed those memories yet and he was too busy not realizing that he had been infested to be actively thinking of his reason for being here at the hospital and how he had ended up inadvertently saving me.

{It doesn't look like I'm gonna fit through this doorway. So I guess I'll have to make the door a little bigger.} Jake had a cloth wrapped around his head so I could just see a flash of gray. Rachel, his brain supplied, in her elephant morph.

Morph. Morphing as in…_morphing_? As in what the Andalites did? Surely he couldn't mean…he did. His mind revealed that Rachel Berenson, his cousin, was one of the Andalite Bandits although how this was possible I couldn't even begin to imagine. Why would Andalites have even allowed him to acquire their technology? Didn't it go against their precious 'Law of Seerow's Kindness' that prevented them from even talking about what the law was?

{Rachel? A human?} I asked silently, stunned. In doing so, I had finally alerted the rather unobservant Jake to my presence. I was lying in the strong arms of some sort of primate and then I heard Marco speaking to someone he called Cassie, which was also a human name.

"My…head," Jake said blearily. He had realized that something was wrong and that he had heard a voice and yet, despite his knowledge of Yeerks and the fact he had fallen into a pool, he had not yet made the connection. I had never been favorably impressed with his intellect and I wasn't starting now.

{Headache?} Marco asked distractedly. {No surprise, dude.} At least Marco had a better reason not to realize I was here.

"Something…wrong," Jake tried to warn him. "I can't…think."

{Don't worry. Take a break. We have it all under control,} Marco promised, oblivious to the danger that he was in. There was a pause. {More or less.}

{Unbelievable,} I marveled. {Can it be? _Humans_?} I was aware that I had raised the possibility with Innis 226 a few weeks ago but I hadn't **really** thought…and children at that? This just couldn't be. We had been plagued all these months by human children? That was a little embarrassing, to tell the truth. At least once I reported this fact, our troubles would be over. I could only hope that being the one to bring this to their attention would make up for the fact that for several months I had failed to notice that Jake was one of the 'bandits.'

Jake desperately tried to figure out what was going on, where my voice was coming from. He really didn't know much, it seemed. He only had one Andalite with him and the Andalite, presumably following the Law of Seerow's Kindness, told him nothing but the bare minimum. My host registered that Marco-the-gorilla was putting him on Cassie-the-horse.

Well, I could always reveal myself but once I did that I couldn't take it back and so I might as well stretch this out and force him to figure it out, especially as – despite my long-standing annoyance with Jake – I was liable to be in this morph-capable body for quite some time. Someone else could infest the governor, this was far more valuable. I hoped we could fake his death so I could put this body to better use and wouldn't have to go back to that family. Though if I did, at least now I could have a legitimate excuse to take the parents.

{Cassie? A human, yes. And Rachel? The cousin? Human as well.} I tried to pull the coat away from my new face but didn't quite manage it. Oh well, that could wait until we had stopped, I suppose.

Jake was beginning to panic. He had no idea what I could possibly be and I was rapidly gaining control, making him see and feel everything as if from a distance. He tried to call out to Cassie but, of course, nothing happened.

{Don't struggle, Jake, a voice in my head said,} I advised mockingly. {It's pointless.}

Jake's mind started.

I laughed. {Put that primitive human brain to work, Jake. Jake, the Animorph. Jake, the servant of the Andalite filth.} If he didn't figure it out after _that_ then there was really no hope for him.

Fortunately, he began to draw back in horror as he realized what must have happened. I wonder how he'll react when I tell him about his brother.

_I'm a Controller_.

And so he was. I had never actually had a host that was both aware of my species from the onset and yet also surprised by his infestation. And he really did know so little…I wondered how much false information I could feed him that he would actually believe. Perhaps claiming that my name designation had been changed with my promotion or aspiring to be an 'Under-Visser'? Don't get me wrong, I might have been fully aware that this could very well be the most important accomplishment our species has made since Visser One found Earth in the first place but that didn't mean I wasn't going to _thoroughly_ enjoy this as well.

{Very good. You figured it out.}

Review Please!


	4. Warning Heeded

Warning Heeded

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_At that moment, something weird happened. I was looking at Tom, and he was smiling at me. But then his face kind of twitched. His head started to pull to one side, like he was trying to shake his head only he couldn't quite do it. For just a split second there was a look in his eyes - scared or...or something. He was looking right at me, and it was like some different person, some scared person, was looking out of those same eyes. Then he was back to normal. Or what looked like normal...I knew what I had seen in Tom's eyes - he was trying to warn me. Somehow he had managed to gain control of his face for just a second before the Yeerk in his head had crushed him. Tom - the **real** Tom, not the Yeerk slug in his brain - had tried to warn me..._

_I told them what Tom had said to Chapman about bring me to the meeting to either use me or kill me...Chapman told Tom there was not to be any killing at a Sharing meeting. They don't want any suspicious activities. He also said that they couldn't just go around killing ever kid who **might** have been at the construction site. They needed to be sure...Chapman just said that for awhile longer they still have to avoid attracting too much attention. A bunch of kids start turning up dead and people will definitely notice. He said they should just wait - kids can't keep quiet for long about seeing aliens. When the kids talk, the Controllers will find them and get rid of them. _

-Animorphs #1.

Jake and his friends were gone by the time the meeting broke up. The Yeerk was as annoyed about that as I was relieved. Ever since we had heard about those potential witness' to the Andalite's death, the Yeerk had been suspicious of Jake. I didn't believe it for a second. I mean, it was _Jake_. He did cut through the construction site at times but I know my brother. Had he seen what went on there last night he would have come immediately to me and sealed his fate.

Still, Jake didn't have to have actually known anything for the Yeerk to want to take advantage of this security breach to try to get him out of the way. The Yeerk looks down on humanity in general but, though I've never understood why, he's always been particularly annoyed by Jake. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Not only did Jake maybe know something but he had finally agreed to come to a meeting of the Sharing.

To my eternal surprise, the other Yeerks saved Jake. They wouldn't hear of risking the secrecy of their operations any further by setting the precedent for killing kids that _might_ know something so Jake's life was safe. They were certain that if the kids really had seen something they would come forward soon enough and so Jake's freedom was, for the moment, safe as well. I would have thought that they would have infested Jake just to be sure since that wouldn't have been suspicious but Yeerks don't always think like humans do and I've never been more glad of it.

The Yeerks decision not to immediately take him wouldn't mean a damn thing if Jake voluntarily joined the Sharing. The very thought of it made me sick and since he had clearly only gone because "I" had invited him…He had been having so much fun before the Yeerk meeting had started. I had done what I could to warn him but I hadn't been able to seize control for long and I highly doubted it had been enough. Jake not still being there had been a good sign but I couldn't read too much into it. For all I knew, he and his friends had just seen things winding down and taken off.

When I got home, I found Jake channel-surfing on the couch.

"Hey," the Yeerk said. "You took off while I was at my meeting."

Jake shrugged. "Yeah. Cassie had to get home and since we all came together, we figured we should all leave together, too." There was a slight blush on his face as he said that. Had things been different, I would have teased him about her.

{I would but I've got some more pressing concerns,} the Yeerk informed me.

"No problem, I was just looking for you after it was over, is all," the Yeerk said aloud. "So what did you think?"

Jake was silent for a moment as he seemed to think it over. "I did have fun," he said at last. "And you were right; night volleyball is a blast."

Please let there be a 'but' coming.

{I think you might be right,} the Yeerk said, annoyed.

"But?" he prompted.

"But…" Jake repeated, trailing off. "But I'm just not sure that the Sharing's my thing, you know?"

The Yeerk frowned. "I don't understand. You said you had fun so what's the problem?"

Jake shrugged again. "I don't know. It just seems like a really big time commitment. I mean, you're always there and while I did have some fun I'm not sure if I want to get involved with something that will take up so much time."

"It's not like you _have_ to spend as much time there as I do," the Yeerk pointed out. "I do it because I have fun there and because it's important to me."

{And because while I'm there I either don't have to keep up this façade of being you or else I'm directly aiding our cause by recruiting more hosts,} he added silently.

{Is that why you're after Jake?} I demanded. {So you won't have to pretend around him anymore? What's the point if you're already avoiding him?}

{The _point_, human, is that I can only avoid him so much before someone starts to notice something as you and he had been close before this. In fact, I may already be overdoing it,} the Yeerk mused. {And you're right, that is part of it. Besides, it's rather pathetic that I've been here so long and yet your family isn't any closer to being infested.}

{I'd rather you never spoke to him again than actively try to get him infested,} I replied, sounding a little desperate despite myself.

{Good for you,} the Yeerk said absently. {But of course, it's not up to you and if he were a Controller there would be no reason to ignore him and I could move on to your parents.}

No, no, no. The Yeerk was right on one count: I had already done all that I could to warn Jake and if he didn't get it or ignored it then the Yeerk wouldn't give me a second chance. Mom and Dad had been so vague about the Sharing and I had no doubt that if Jake were a Controller and advocating them joining, they'd join us in this hell soon enough. Though Jake had no idea the danger he and our parents were in, it was really up to him to save them. I could only hope that he wouldn't allow himself to be talked or guilted into attending another meeting.

"Yeah, but when it first started out you only went now and then," Jake reminded the Yeerk.

"And if I wanted to, I could still only go on occasions," the Yeerk claimed. "It's not like I have to show up on any given day. If you wanted to become a member you could go, I don't know, every other Wednesday and that's it. The Sharing won't take over your life, Jake." He was lying, of course, but most people tended to balk at the thought of an organization taking over their life and even with the voluntary hosts, the Yeerks had to gently introduce them to the idea.

"Maybe," Jake conceded. "But it's not just that."

{Oh, of _course_ it isn't. He can never just make it easy, can he?} the Yeerk complained.

Out loud, he asked, "No?"

"No," Jake confirmed, shaking his head. "There's also the fact that Mr. Chapman is a member."

It actually hadn't occurred to me that Jake would take issue with joining something that his assistant school principal was a member of and it probably should have. I guess this just goes to show how long I've been a Controller; I'm getting out of touch. That may be a rather trivial reason but if it kept Jake away from the Sharing then I was all for it.

{It won't,} the Yeerk said grimly. {I won't let it. It's ridiculous! Innis normally _helps_ recruit kids Jake's age, not hinders it. It's almost like Jake doesn't _want_ to be a Controller.}

{Imagine that,} I said dryly.

"So?" the Yeerk asked blankly. "I'm a member, too. It's not just a boring school thing."

"Oh, I know," Jake assured him. "I went to a meeting tonight, remember? It's just…Mr. Chapman is a member."

"You already said that," the Yeerk said, trying not to sound impatient.

"Sorry," Jake said, looking a little sheepish. "It's just that that's kind of hard to get over. Who would want to join an organization where their assistant school principal is a member?"

"It wouldn't bother me," the Yeerk informed him.

"But it does bother me," Jake said firmly.

"So it's just the fear of the time commitment and the fact that Mr. Chapman's a member?" the Yeerk asked, just to make sure he knew what he was up against before planning his next move.

Jake looked a little awkward.

{Oh for the love-! There's more?}

Don't let him change your mind, Jake. Keep finding those reasons no matter if they're as frivolous as not liking the barbecue.

"You know I'm not trying to diss the Sharing, right?" Jake asked, suddenly anxious. "I know that you like it but it's just not really my thing and you're the one who wants to know why."

"Oh, I know," the Yeerk lied. "And I'm not upset or anything, just curious."

"Well, do you remember before your meeting when I was asking you about becoming a full member?" Jake asked slowly.

I felt a wave of fury rolling off the Yeerk. {Why yes, I remember that quite well. And I also remember when your brother tried to sabotage all my hard work.}

That was a sore point for me as well. {I'm not going to regret trying to save my little brother so you might as well not waste your time.}

{We'll see about that,} the Yeerk said haughtily. {I can assure you that if what you did ends up preventing me from getting him to become a member of the Sharing then I will make you suffer.}

He could and I was well aware of that. Just the same, Jake's freedom had to come before my…discomfort.

"I do," the Yeerk acknowledged.

"All of that talk about becoming an associate member and then the leaders having to decide whether or not to ask you to become a full member…I don't know, it just sounded a little too exclusive for my tastes," Jake explained.

{It would appear you're safe for now,} the Yeerk said ominously. {But I _knew_ that our official story about becoming a member would cause problems one day.}

"It's really not exclusive at all," the Yeerk protested.

"No?" Jake asked skeptically. "It sure _sounds_ like it when they talk about having to invite people. I don't know much about the Sharing, true, but I had been under the impression that it was a little more open than that."

"It doesn't take much to get invited to become a full member, trust me," the Yeerk said flatly, being completely honest for once. {I mean, we don't want defective hosts and that needs to be handled delicately so that no one gets the idea that we're discriminatory but other than that…} "We just need to be sure that they get the Sharing and understand their responsibility to _not_ be exclusive and to try to make the world a better place. Someone who goes to the meetings and then picks on people wouldn't be asked to become a full member because that's not what we're about."

Jake started nodding as if that made sense to him. Don't fall for it Jake, you're smarter than that.

{Hate to break it to you, Tom, but I think you overestimate your brother,} the Yeerk laughed.

{And you don't seem to be physically capable of not _underestimating_ him,} I shot back. Come on, Jake…

"You know, you could have great explanations for whatever reason I might come up with for not wanting to join the Sharing," Jake said thoughtfully. "And yet, at the end of the day, all that really matters is that I don't want to join the Sharing. I'm sorry, Tom, but…it's just not me and I don't think it ever will be." There was a pause and he grinned. "Besides, Marco thinks that The Sharing is kind of a stupid name."

The Yeerk practically had an apoplexy from that one.

You tell him, Jake.

Review Please!


	5. Waiting Up

Waiting Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_As for me, I dragged home at almost midnight. There was no question: I was grounded. I didn't even argue. No TV. No Sega. Inside the house by five o'clock. Wash all dishes. Take out all trash. For two weeks. And oh, by the way, clean out the garage. I didn't say anything but "Yes, sir," and "Yes, ma'am," and , "I'm really sorry I worried you." Then I went up to my room and tried not to imagine what Visser Three was doing to Ax and Marco._

-Megamorphs #1.

I've lived in the Santa Barbara area my whole life and tornadoes were never really something I had spent much time worrying about. They could and did happen – as did earthquakes – but not often enough to live in fear. In fact, I could only think of three tornadoes that had hit the county in my lifetime: one in 77, one in 91, and one in 94. Admittedly, the last two really weren't all _that_ long ago but no one died in either of them and only a couple people were injured in the 91 tornado so it was easy to dismiss the dangers in the times between.

Today, however…today tornadoes had apparently decided to make up for lost time and seemed to be everywhere. There was one at a pool party my younger son, Jake, had been attending, one on the freeway, and one in a residential area. According to the news, it might have even been the same tornado heading all over town. No one really seemed to have a clear idea of what was going on with this or these freak tornadoes but not understanding didn't mean that they weren't happening.

I will admit that I probably would not have been quite so worried about a tornado that hadn't gone anywhere near my house if it hadn't been for the fact that my normally responsible son had chosen tonight of all nights to break curfew. He was supposed to be home by nine and to call if, for whatever reason, he was going to be later. It was nearing 11:45 and there was still no sign of him. Tom had stayed up with us for awhile but he'd gone to bed not long ago after telling us that he was sure that Jake was fine. I wish that I could be so calm about it.

"He has to be okay," I said, trying to reassure myself. "The news hasn't reported any serious injuries or fatalities." I ignored the little voice that whispered that just because the story hadn't made the news yet didn't mean Jake hadn't been caught up in the tornado.

Steve nodded. "He's probably off with his friends somewhere. Just give it a little longer and he'll come home, we can ground him until he's thirty, and everything will be okay."

I tried to believe him. Though intellectually I knew he was right, there's nothing quite so nerve-wracking as waiting up for a missing child. Jake had never broken curfew by this much before. Tom had occasionally come home very late but he had _always_ called so we knew not to worry and he was three years older than Jake besides so of course we didn't worry as much. I had never been in this position before and I wouldn't have thought that my thirteen-year-old child would be the one to put me in it. I had always thought that stories of parents waiting up for hours when their children were just off at their friend's house and being thoughtless was a little odd but now that I was in their shoes I had to say that I understood completely.

And it wasn't all that long ago that Jake had had that…episode, I guess the word was, where he wouldn't stop eating everything in sight and couldn't make it through a three syllable word without playing with the sounds. Sure he had _said_ that he was alright but what if he'd suffered some sort of relapse? Or what if he'd been hit by a car or kidnapped? And there was still the tornado…

Steve must have been able to tell that I was getting all worked up for he came and sat next to me on the couch and took my hands in his. "I'll bet you anything that Jake's biggest problem right now is how to explain why he's nearly three hours late. And that is a big problem, yes, but hardly on the same level as being caught in the tornado."

I was about to respond when the doorbell rang. I jumped up and practically ran for the door.

"Jake?" I exclaimed as I threw the door open.

Sure enough, there stood my errant younger son. His shirt was on backwards and he looked like he was minutes away from collapsing. What had he been doing to tire him out so?

I stood aside to let him in and he stumbled into the house.

"Young man," Steve said sternly, coming up to stand beside me and folding his arms across his chest. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?"

Jake shook his head tiredly but said nothing.

"It's 11:57," Steve informed him. "It's only three minutes away from being Sunday. You were supposed to be home three hours ago! And with that tornado tearing up the town…Your mother and I were worried sick!"

"I'm really sorry I worried you," Jake said quietly.

"Where were you?" I demanded. "Why didn't you call?"

Jake just stared miserably at the floor. It was clear that he wasn't going to tell us. Part of me wanted to keep at him until he told us but it was really late and we were all tired and Steve and I were stressed from worrying about Jake who was looking a little upset himself. There was no reason we couldn't get answers from him in the morning. Even though I half-thought that he would have plenty of time to make up some story by then, I decided to let it go.

"I do hope you know that you're grounded," I told him. "For two weeks."

"Yes, ma'am," Jake agreed. He must be really tired or guilty if he's calling me 'ma'am'.

At least he didn't argue. If he had the energy to argue then he most certainly would have had the energy to explain. Not to mention that if he refused to explain, we'd have no choice but to assume the worst. Had, say, he been at Cassie's and one of her horses went into labor and so he'd spent a few hours helping with that we still would have been upset that he hadn't called but we would have understood. If he had been in a car with someone and the car had broken down in the middle of nowhere and he had no access to a phone, we would have understood. Even if he said that he'd been having too much fun playing video games with Marco and hadn't wanted to come home, it would be better than this silence. Although to be fair, if we didn't think his explanation was good enough, it might have started an argument or another lecture and we would just see what he had to say in the morning.

"That means no TV or Sega," Steve elaborated. "That means that you have to be inside the house by five o'clock, no exceptions. You will be washing all of the dishes and taking out the trash by yourself." He paused, glanced at me, then quickly continued with, "And you're cleaning out the garage, as well."

"Yes, sir," Jake agreed in a monotone. I would have expected a little bit of an argument there because Jake was going to have a pretty miserable two weeks. The no TV or Sega was a given and the dishwashing and trash were fair as well. That combined with the five o'clock curfew _and _the garage? He had made us worry quite a bit and this kind of behavior wasn't acceptable but still not a word of protest? I guess his responsible side decided to reassert itself and gracefully accept his punishment.

As I watched him swaying on his feet, I decided to give him a break. "You can go to bed now," I said gently.

He nodded gratefully at me. "Yes, ma'am." With that, he trudged upstairs.

Steve waited until he was reasonably sure that Jake was gone before he said anything. "Well, let's hear it."

"Hear what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about how I'm making Jake clean the garage then I guess-" he started to say.

"A month, Steve," I interrupted. "I've been after you to clean it out for an entire _month_ and now you dump it on Jake the first chance you get?"

"I had actually wanted to get Tom to do it but he hasn't gotten in enough trouble," Steve admitted. "But I'm sure it won't take Jake **that** much longer."

"And the reason you couldn't do it is…?" I prompted.

"I've been busy," Steve claimed.

"Oh, very busy. I know that that Law & Order marathon you were watching today meant that you really had no opportunity to tackle the garage," I deadpanned.

"Exactly," Steve agreed, blithely ignoring my sarcasm. "And hey, at least the garage gets cleaned, right? That was all you really wanted in the first place, to be able to park both cars in the garage."

"It's such a big job, though," I objected.

"And now maybe Jake will think twice about being out so late, not calling to let us know, and not even giving us a half-assed explanation like losing track of the time," my husband said virtuously.

I laughed. "So this is all for Jake's own good, is it?"

Steve nodded vehemently. "Oh, absolutely. As a parent, you know, it's my job to teach my children about actions and consequences and I think that we can be reasonably sure that after he finishes with the garage, our son will have an excellent understanding of this very important life lesson."

"Or he might just learn the values of passing off chores you don't like on other people," I countered.

"Another very useful life lesson," Steve said solemnly. "And if Jake hadn't been out so late I wouldn't have had an excu-" He cut himself off. "That is to say, the _opportunity_ to assign him to do it."

We stood there in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm worried about him," I said finally.

"You're not just talking about tonight," Steve said. It wasn't a question.

"He's been getting quieter lately," I pointed out. "And I don't even want to know what happened a few weeks ago. His psychiatrist might not have found anything wrong with him but I know that there had to be _something_ and whenever I try to bring it up with him, he acts like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. Maybe he really doesn't know what I'm talking about. Maybe it could happen again. And now this."

"I don't understand it any better than you do," Steve confessed quietly. "Things were never this complicated with Tom but every child's different. The quietness is probably just a part of being a teenager and I think that the curfew-breaking probably was, too. I'll bet you anything that if we call Peter up tomorrow we'll find out that Marco came home around now, too."

"And the incident from a few weeks ago?" I pressed.

Steve shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. We'll continue taking him to see that psychiatrist for a little while longer but eventually I think that if he can't find anything the matter with him then we'll just have to write it off as a fluke and hope that it doesn't happen again."

That wasn't exactly the reassurance I'd been looking for but, as usual, he was right. There was really only so much we could do.

I took Steve's hand and together we went upstairs.

Review Please!


	6. Oatmeal

Oatmeal

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Jake shook off his funk and stepped to the center of our little group. "I have to ask myself: If it were Tom, and it may be Tom in the end, would I do this to him? On the one hand, life as a slave of a Yeerk. No free will at all. On the other hand, as we saw with Mr. Edelman, some free will, some ability to communicate, but with this insane Yeerk in your brain." ... And I noticed that Jake never answered himself about his brother. Would Tom be getting the magic oatmeal slipped into his breakfast? Not a chance. Jake still hoped to rescue Tom some day. And from what Edelman had said, there was no rescue from an oatmeal-altered Yeerk. _

-Animorphs #17.

Mom and Dad were off playing tennis again so it was just Tom and I at breakfast.

"Since when do you eat oatmeal?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Since Marco had too much of it and didn't want to just throw it away. Want some? It's instant maple and ginger." I wasn't entirely sure how much of it Marco had but I'd heard Rachel complaining about how much he'd forced on her and apparently Cassie had fared no better. I had managed to get away with only one small box for obvious reasons and so I was trying to get rid of it as quickly as I could. I had actually hoped to avoid taking any home with me at all but Rachel and Cassie had outright refused to take even one more box and it _was_ clearly labeled so since it's still a big issue among the Yeerks, Tom would probably have read the box before mindlessly making some.

Tom wrinkled his nose. "No thanks. I can't stand the stuff. I'll just stick to Frosted Flakes and toast."

No surprise, really, given just what it would do to him. Even if, from what we could tell, it would take repeated exposure to drive him crazy, the Yeerk wasn't taking any chances. I had to offer him some, though, because normal fourteen-year-old non-Animorph Jake would have no reason not to and now Tom would be sure to know that the oatmeal was the Yeerk-kryptonite kind and not eat any by mistake.

Since our initial plan to release oatmeal into the Yeerk Pool was a spectacular failure, we'd decided to give up on that plan. None of had really been comfortable with it in the first place (no matter what Rachel and Marco might have said) and we had lost the element of surprise. It had been hard enough just getting the oatmeal into the Pool in the first place and now they wouldn't just let their supply stockpile anymore, not to mention the almost impossibility even getting into the Yeerk Pool had become with these new Gleet Biofilters. All of our efforts of the last few days had come to naught but, strangely, I didn't mind.

I still remembered the day that we decided to use the Yeerks' instant maple and ginger oatmeal weakness against them. I had asked myself a question then, whether or not if it came down to it I would be willing to slip my brother some instant maple and ginger oatmeal. Now, of course, the answer was a firm 'no way in hell' because now none of us were going to do anything more about the Yeerks' vulnerability to oatmeal. Before we had decided that, though…

Before we had decided that I had honestly had no idea if I would or even _could_ bring myself to do that. If it was going to be our policy to contaminate as many Yeerks as possible, if I was going to be okay with that then how could I say it was okay for other Yeerks but not for the one in my brother? Why was it alright for strangers to end up like Mr. Edelman but not Tom? I didn't have an answer then but I'm not sure if anyone noticed I never answered my own question. If they did, they didn't call me on it.

I didn't know whether, if it were me, I would prefer to be a Controller with the hope that one day I would be free or free now for about half of the time but always have an insane Yeerk in my head controlling my movements at random intervals. According to Rachel, Mr. Edelman hadn't known of any way to get rid of the Yeerk and so expected to live in that half-free, half-controlled state forever. Maybe he was right that there was nothing that could be done now but if we won…it was such an absurd thought, winning. I didn't actually believe that we could most days but with Tom taken, the rest of the world at risk, and no other real resistance to speak of it's not like we had much of a choice. Even if we just slowed them down, I know that if my parents and I were going to have to spend the rest of our lives as Controllers I would prefer that it started a year from now instead a week from now. But about Mr. Edelman: if a miracle occurred and we did manage to hold on long enough for the Andalites to show up someday and we won, something could be done then. Everyone would know about the Yeerks and if Mr. Edelman were still around then doctors could cut their way in and yank that Yeerk out and he'd be free. It's not a very reassuring thought when we're still so very far away from that day but it is a very real possibility, unlikely though it may be.

So maybe I didn't have to decide whether I was going to drive my brother's Yeerk crazy but this whole situation just reminded me of my other still sort-of unresolved question concerning Tom. Would I kill him if it came down to it? One thing I did know was that I wasn't happy with my answer. It's not like I secretly knew what I would do but wouldn't admit it, I just felt that either answer was pretty terrible.

It wasn't like if I decided that I would that I would lunge across the table and do it now. No, it wouldn't be a death I dealt lightly. It was so hard to think about it for longer than a few minutes at a time but I'd eventually come to the conclusion that 'if I had to' meant only if it literally came down to Tom's life or the lives of one of my friends (or my parents) or if it ended up being him or the world. See, as much as I love my brother, the others _have_ to come first. We're fighting a war here and we're an army of six. We can't afford to lose _anyone_. We've been pretty lucky so far that we've never had to face Tom in battle but one of these days our luck might run out. If killing him was literally the only way to stop him from killing me or Marco or Cassie or Rachel or Tobias or Ax then it would have to be done. As the most he could probably do was shoot one of us with a Draco Beam, we could likely take him out without killing him but in case we couldn't…

I doubt that it will ever come down to having to choose between my brother's life and those of my parents but if one day they realize something is up with him or try to get him to quit the Sharing or the Yeerk needs them out of the way for some reason then I'll have to make that choice. It would kill me to kill him but I know that it would kill him to be forced to murder my parents, _our_ parents and so he'd probably understand. I have no idea how or why it would ever come down to having to kill Tom to save the entire world and maybe even win this war (how important could his Yeerk possibly be to the invasion?) but if there ever would be a reason to kill my brother, that would be it.

There were only three situations that might call for my brother's death at my hands: if it was us or him, if it were our parents or him, or if it were the world or him. I didn't know how likely any of these would be but it would be better to know whether I could ever cross that line and commit fratricide than to have to find out that I needed to but couldn't somewhere down the line.

Could I kill my brother? It would only ever be under the direst of circumstances but could I even do it? I almost didn't want to know because of just what a horrible person either answer would make me but though I might hope that I would never have to find out, it was always a possibility and so if I needed to make that choice one day I'd prefer to be prepared and not blindsided. It would be easier if I didn't have to do it personally and one of the others did it but I still might have to give the order or freeze up and force them to make their own judgment call.

On the one hand, what kind of a person could calmly plot the possible death of someone they loved, someone they were fighting every day to save? And not just 'someone' either but their own brother. On the other, what kind of person would choose one person over the entire world or over Earth's only hope? The minute one of us dies, the war becomes even more unwinnable than before and so not killing Tom and letting him take down, say, Cassie would be tantamount to choosing him over the world. And as for my parents…I can't guarantee that if he managed to kill them that I wouldn't go after him and so if I couldn't kill him before he killed our parents then suddenly I'd have no family at all.

And then there's Tom himself to consider, the real Tom and not the Yeerk in his head. It's been well over a year since he was infested. I know that as of nearly a year ago when this all started, he was still desperate to keep me out of the Yeerks' clutches and willing to sacrifice what may be the only chance at freedom he'd ever get to save 'the Andalite bandits.' I know that as of a few days before I'd gotten infested, he had given up and would not only be okay with me killing him but would actually welcome it. I'd given him what hope I could but I had no idea whether it had inspired him to keep fighting or not. Either way, those were just moments and too few and far between. As much as I hated to admit it, I really didn't know my brother anymore. I knew the brother the Yeerk was pretending to be, of course, but how much of that was still him, how much of it was who he used to be, and how much was the Yeerk's own personality shining through I have no idea. Still, I think that if it came down to one of my three worst-case scenarios and I was called upon to kill him, Tom would approve.

"You okay?" Tom asked, sounding concerned. My brother might have been. "You look sad."

"Oh, it's nothing," I lied, wishing I had a list of ready-made excuses for times like these. And that _is_ an idea. I should talk to Marco about that. He's very good at coming up with excuses but their plausibility isn't always guaranteed. "Just, you know, thinking about Cassie."

Tom grinned. "Girl problems, huh? Oh, to be young again…"

I rolled my eyes. "You're not that much older than me, you know."

"Maybe not physically," Tom agreed readily. "But maturity-wise, I'm leaps and bounds ahead of you…"

Logically, I know what my answer should be. Logically, I shouldn't even entertain the idea unless not killing him would lead to something worse. Logically, if it comes down to that I _should_ kill him. The question is: could I do it? Could I even order it? I hope I never have to answer that.

Review Please!


	7. Suspicions

Suspicions

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_"Hey, Midget?" Tom poked his head around my door frame. "Was that blood on your leg?" _

_My breathing stopped. Stometimes, when you demorph, the blood of battle stays behind. "Uh." My voice faltered. "You know about my bike. It stinks. The stupid chain catches my skin. I should get Dad to buy me a new one." I dropped back onto my pillow. Switched off the light. Waited. Tom let it go. But when I glanced once more at my bedroom doorway, Tom's shadow was still there. Did he have something more to say? I was too tired to ask. Sleep was dragging down my eyelids. Whatever it was could wait till morning...I saw Tom's leery eyes. Always watching. Policing. Scheming. Eyes controlled by the very small, but very real parasitic slug in his brain. The Yeerk. The race of alien invaders, pressing ever forward in stealthy conquest of humanity...And I wondered: Just how long would it hold? _

-Animorphs #41.

The Yeerk was watching Jake again. My sleeping brother wasn't doing anything particularly interesting though he seemed to be caught in the grip of a nightmare. That didn't seem to bother the Yeerk, though, who had been doing this with alarming regularity lately although I wasn't quite sure what he was looking for.

{Oh, that's not quite true, is it?} the Yeerk cut into my thoughts. {You know exactly why I'm doing this.}

Maybe he was right. For the past…who knew how long, really? The days had long-since blurred together. For quite some time, little things about Jake had puzzled the Yeerk who really should have had better things to do.

{Better things?} the Yeerk asked snidely. {Like what, exactly?}

{I don't know, attempting to conquer the world or something,} I replied.

{I would like nothing better than to do that,} the Yeerk assured me. {Maybe then Visser Three would actually notice the effort I'm putting in and give me the promotion I deserve.}

Ah yes, the Yeerk's increasing frustration about his inability to get Visser Three to notice what he was doing.

{This is all the Andalite Bandits' fault, you know,} the Yeerk insisted. {He can't seem to think about anything else these days.}

He might have had a point as even I was beginning to feel that the Visser's obsession with them was unhealthy but it still seemed a little pretentious to hold the Andalite Bandits personally responsible for all of his problems.

{Unfortunately,} the Yeerk continued, {I literally cannot spend more time out and aiding the cause without worrying your parents and risking having my ability to go out and help the invasion get severely curtailed. I can't wait until I can move out and not have to worry about any of this.}

I supposed that that was true. After all, my parents had recently begun to exchange worried parent looks whenever I ended up missing dinner. I wasn't sure how I felt about the concept of moving out. On the one hand, I would miss my family dearly and I was sure that the Yeerk wouldn't bother to keep in contact with them any more than was absolutely necessary. On the other, it would probably be safer for them. Sure, they had someone managed to live with me for the past three years and not get infested but their luck couldn't hold out forever and if mom and dad decided to inconvenience the Yeerk too much with their concern, well…I couldn't count on delinquents busting up my dad's car the next time he was taken to a meeting.

{Oh, that's the spirit,} the Yeerk said with mock-enthusiasm. {Look on the bright side of whatever I choose to do; it will make your life far easier.}

Jake muttered something in his sleep and the Yeerk eagerly leaned forward to hear what it was.

{I thought I heard 'Cassie.' What do you think?} the Yeerk asked me.

{I think that my brother dreaming about his girlfriend is hardly suspicious,} I returned. All this staring and Jake, poking through his room, and watching him while he was sleeping was starting to make_ me_ feel creepy and I wasn't even the one doing all of it.

{Well as I was saying,} the Yeerk said, annoyed, {since for the time being I do have to spend some time at your home in order to keep up appearances, I might as well do something.}

{And that something is spying on Jake?} I said skeptically. Well, that and persisting in nitpicking my thoughts.

{It's not like I can help but hear everything you think,} the Yeerk objected. {So why _not_ comment on it?}

{Because maybe I'd like to be able to forget that little fact every once in awhile,} I suggested.

{I will not aid you in your delusions,} the Yeerk said nobly. {It's not good for you.}

Oh, please. {And being a Controller **is**?}

He studiously ignored that. {Besides, watching your brother isn't nearly as interesting as I thought it might be.}

{To be fair, he's not even conscious,} I pointed out.

{True enough,} he conceded. {But even when awake, he's kind of boring.}

{You could always, oh, I don't know…_stop_ stalking him,} I offered.

{I am not _stalking_ him,} the Yeerk sniffed, sounding almost offended. {And if I did that then that would make these past few weeks of _observing_ him quite pointless.}

Even more pointless than they already were, is what he meant.

{Thank you so much for clarifying that for me, Tom,} the Yeerk said, his tone deeply sarcastic.

{Am I going to be expected to control my thoughts now?} I shot back.

The Yeerk considered that. {No, I don't think that's a very practical request. I do reserve the right to continue to 'nitpick' them, as you put it, though you're free to think whatever you like.}

{How generous,} I deadpanned.

{I think so,} the Yeerk agreed. {There is something not quite right about your brother and no matter how little you want to see it, you're curious as well.}

{Curious about _what_, exactly?} I demanded, knowing full well that I was in denial but not really intending to change that at any point in the near future. {He's a teenager; a little odd behavior is to be expected.}

{There's just too much and it's been going on for far too long,} the Yeerk declared. {He's always tired despite the fact that he never goes to bed very late and we've seen that he doesn't have any trouble falling asleep. He could rise early but if he does he never goes down to breakfast early.}

{Sometimes he does leave a note saying that he went for an early walk before school,} I reminded him. {And perhaps he wakes up during the night…not that you should stay up and watch to see if that's true.}

Fortunately, the Yeerk laughed incredulously. {Staying up all night staring at your brother to see if he ever wakes up? In addition to that sounding really really _boring_, that would make you tired the next day and throw off your sleep schedule which is an inconvenience I'm not willing to put up with in order to watch another human sleep. I don't even like doing that for the cause.}

Given the Yeerk's intense dedication to said cause, this admission meant that he really meant it when he said he hated throwing off my sleep schedule.

{Then what about all those times he came home long after curfew wearing nothing but a skintight shirt and bicycle shorts and refused to explain where he'd been no matter how much trouble he was in?} the Yeerk continued.

{That was hardly 'all those times,'} I protested. {It was only a few isolated incidents and it would almost be stranger had he **never** broken curfew, no matter how responsible he is.}

{And the outfit?} the Yeerk pressed.

{So he has some weird fashion choices,} I replied with a mental-shrug.

{In the past few years, he's gone from worshipping the ground you walk on to barely being able to stand being in the same room as you,} the Yeerk went on.

{People change,} I said simply. {And it's not like you spent any more time with him than you could help before you started getting suspicious of him.}

{Does it bother you?} the Yeerk asked suddenly. {The way he clearly wants nothing to do with you?}

It did, a little. Whenever the Yeerk could be bothered to be around, he did a fairly good job of passing himself off as me. I know that the Yeerks' near-flawless imitation of their host bothered some people since it almost seemed like the Yeerks were better at being them than they were and it used to bother me but I'd had a revelation since then. When we're in a situation where we wouldn't know what to say but the Yeerk would, it didn't mean that there was anything wrong with us and the Yeerk's superiority meant that they could find the right words. We just were too close to the situation and the Yeerk didn't care so they could objectively see what the best way to handle it was and do just that. They could pretend to be us because they had complete access to us and it takes no great skill to read the lines our brains provided.

So the Yeerk could do a nice job passing himself off as me when he so chose and so Jake's rejection of the Yeerk really did seem like a rejection of me but if that was what it took to keep him safe then so be it. It wasn't like I thought that he even hated me, either, and sometimes he said things that were strangely sentimental.

{That's another thing,} the Yeerk announced. {Why does he do that? It's…odd, to say the least. Out of nowhere he'll just say things like 'I hope nothing ever happens to us' or 'You know that I love you, Tom.'}

{So now being sentimental is suspicious?} Honestly, it was like he was just inventing things to be suspicious of. I'm really starting to think that he needs a hobby.

{And sometimes when I bring up something that's happened just a few days ago, it's clear that he has no idea what I'm talking about,} the Yeerk remarked. {He covers it reasonably well, but I can tell. Why is that?}

{Maybe he just wasn't paying attention or just honestly forgot,} I suggested. {As Jake's not a Controller, it's not like there's a Yeerk there to perfectly recall everything that's ever happened to him.}

{And then there was that time when I first got here that he was acting like he was insane,} the Yeerk went on. {Even your parents took him to a psychiatrist!}

{That was over two years ago,} I retorted. {I don't think that whatever that was has any bearing on this.}

{And I do,} the Yeerk stubbornly insisted. {But fine, let's just look at tonight. He looked like he was about to fall asleep _again_, dressed in that ridiculous getup he's worn on occasion, and looked terrified when he saw me.}

{You startled him,} I answered reasonably. {Normally, we'd still have been at the Sharing when Jake got home and Mom and Dad went to a movie.}

{What about the fact that he was riding a bike barefoot?} the Yeerk challenged. {Who even does that? And at night?}

{It's not like he has any other method of transportation,} I pointed out. {And presumably he was wearing shoes but he took them off before making dinner.}

The Yeerk didn't seem to believe that. {Then why didn't he say that when I asked?}

{Because it was kind of obvious?} I asked rhetorically.

{And the blood?} the Yeerk demanded. {You can't tell me you believed that ridiculous story about how the bike chain caught his skin. And why didn't he wash it off once he realized it was there?}

{No…} I admitted reluctantly if only because there was little point in lying to him. {But it's a big leap from thinking that he didn't want to admit where he got his injury from and thinking that it's something suspicious. Besides, he was really tired and probably just couldn't be bothered. It's not the most hygienic thing in the world and he may need to wash those blankets in the morning but he's a teenage boy and that's pretty par for the course.}

{You make it sound so reasonable,} the Yeerk mused. {And yet…and yet…}

{And yet what?} I prompted.

{I don't know. Something's not right about this,} the Yeerk declared.

{So you've said but you haven't told me what it is that you suspect,} I hinted.

{That's because I don't _know_,} the Yeerk confessed, frustrated. {But something's going on and no matter how hard I try, I can't bring myself to ignore it. But I'll figure it out, just wait and see…}

The worrying part was that I believed him and I couldn't help but feel that, whatever was going on, the Yeerk's interest couldn't be good for Jake.

Review Please!


	8. Concerned Parents

Concerned Parents

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Once, for two days I had to morph Prince Jake and pretend to be him. I was successful in fooling his parents and brother. Although I later learned that his parents believed "he" had become mentally ill. When the real Prince Jake returned, they took him to see a doctor. _

-Animorphs #8.

It's been a little over a week since the Yeerk died and my parents had yet to stop exchanging 'worried parent' looks whenever I was in the room. I suppose it's only natural given that Ax is hardly the most convincing human around but at least they and Tom didn't realize it wasn't really me. Regardless of what the Yeerk had told me friends, I hadn't really believed that there would be trouble on that front. It was one thing to see that I was acting bizarre but quite another to decide that that must mean that it wasn't really me but rather a shape-shifting alien not used to having a mouth. Occam's razor, anyone?

Still, between my new nightmares about that…thing (at least I was no longer dreaming about hunting my brother), my friends insisting on treating me like glass, and the memories of despair I'd absorbed from Tom, I was really hoping that my parents would realize that I was fine and stop looking at me like that. Well…comparatively fine at least. Only marginally less fine than I was before I got infested and they hadn't seemed to think that anything was wrong with me then. Now, though, they were looking closer and so I'd need to make sure to be extra careful and normal-looking.

I walked into the kitchen, intending to slip out the back door and then head over to Marco's to see if he wanted to do something but stopped at the sight of my parents and Tom sitting at the table. It was two in the afternoon or so so it was after lunch and the conversation ceased once I entered the room. My parents looked as grim and concerned as they had all week and my brother appeared to be a little uncomfortable. The Yeerk probably didn't want anything to do with this but my parents weren't letting him avoid it.

"Jake, sit down," my mom said gently.

I looked longingly at the door. If I had tried to head out the front door I probably would have made it. I sighed internally and sat down across from Tom. I had been trying to act as normal as possible since I had gotten back but the damage had already been done and I was feeling a little off anyway.

"How are you feeling?" my dad asked.

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

My mom and dad exchanged another Look. So that wasn't a good enough answer? What was I supposed to have said instead?

"Jake, you know that we love you very much," my mom began.

These conversations – the ones where people have to reassure you that they love you before they start – never, ever ended well. Rachel said that that was how her parents began the 'We're going to take a break' and 'We're getting a divorce' conversations. Given that the morning before I got infested, breakfast with my parents saw them acting like they were on their first date (again), I rather doubted that was it. "Yeah, I know."

"And we're only doing this because we're very concerned," my dad continued.

"Mom, Dad, Jake looks like he's about to freak out over there," Tom mercifully spoke up. "Just tell him."

My dad nodded. "Jake, your behavior last week concerned us greatly and even though you seem to be fine now, we don't want to take any chances. We're taking you to a psychiatrist on Thursday."

My eyes widened. "What? I don't need a psychiatrist."

The truth is that I could probably use a psychiatrist. If my recent infestation wasn't enough then the months of fighting a secret invasion and living with the knowledge that my own brother was in the enemy's hands would be. Unfortunately, I couldn't actually mention any of that or else I'd be headed to the Yeerk Pool before I knew what was happening or I'd be dismissed as crazy and there might be a delay before a Controller found out and I was taken to a Yeerk Pool. Going to a psychiatrist when I had so much to say but couldn't afford to voice any of it was not only pointless, it was rather cruel as well.

"It's just an evaluation," my mom promised. "We'll tell Dr. Greyfield our perception of what happened and then you'll get your turn. He'll give you the standard evaluation and see if you need his services."

"If he's going to gain a customer if he says I need a psychiatrist then of course he'll say that!" I protested.

"It's a patient, not customer," Tom corrected me. "Though I see what you mean."

"Dr. Greyfield is a professional and he comes highly recommended," my mom assured me. "He wouldn't do that to you."

Maybe, maybe not. I knew nothing about this guy, after all, and if the psychiatrist was any good, he'd probably realize that I could use one and tell my parents despite the fact it really wouldn't do me any good.

"I don't need a psychiatrist," I said again. "I'm not crazy."

Tom snorted. "Midget, obsessively eating everything in sight and playing with every other sound you make isn't exactly sane behavior."

I pushed aside a sudden wave of anger and hoped that it didn't show on my face or in my body language. That was Tom's name for me and the Yeerk had no right to use it.

"No one's saying you are," my dad said soothingly, shooting Tom a dirty look. "Psychiatrists don't just treat 'crazy people,' Jake, no matter what you see on TV."

"Dr. Greyfield saw your cousins for a few weeks after the divorce," my mom added. "Psychiatrists treat all kinds of people: people who are too stressed, people going through major life changes, even just people who are lonely and need someone to talk to."

That was all well and good but that didn't change the fact that when people said 'psychiatrist' I tended to think 'crazy people' or the fact that they were planning on taking me because Ax's imitation of me convinced them that I _was_ crazy.

"Jake, I know you don't want to do this," my dad told me, "but your mother and I are worried and we'd never forgive ourselves if something was wrong and we did nothing about it."

Something _is_ wrong and they can't ever find out because if they do they'll be in terrible danger. I guess they'll have to someday because even should a miracle occur and we win, the Yeerk invasion can't realistically be covered up forever. I wonder if they'll be more upset that they never noticed my war or Tom's enslavement. I don't blame them, of course, and as of a few days ago neither did Tom but I think they'll still feel guilty that they couldn't protect us from this.

"Thirteen is a very stressful age," my mom agreed. "And even if last week was an isolated incident that won't happen again, you could probably still use someone to talk to. And if Dr. Greyfield says that you don't, well then it was only one afternoon and better safe than sorry, right?"

"One afternoon or not, this isn't even necessary!" I insisted. "I'm absolutely fine."

My parents exchanged another Look.

"I wish that I could believe that, Jake, I really do," my mom said earnestly. "And maybe if Dr. Greyfield tells us you are, I'll be able to."

"Why don't you believe me?" I demanded.

"Jake…your brother might not have put it very tactfully but he is right," my dad admitted. "Saturday morning you were just fine and then when you came home that night you…I don't even know how to describe it."

So maybe Ax didn't do a perfect job of pretending to be me. Given that he's only been with us for a few weeks and hasn't had much experience with a human morphs, I'd say that he did fairly well. We might want to make sure to give him some more practice in the future so that in case – God forbid – this sort of thing were to happen again, he could do a more convincing job. Or maybe if part of it was on the weekend or another day we didn't have school, we could claim that whoever was infested was just staying the night at someone else's house. Though they probably shouldn't by this point, we all have parents that trust us and don't bother to call to make absolutely sure we actually are where we say we're going to be. Good thing, too, because if we didn't then that would make this whole thing a lot harder.

"Crazed," Tom suggested.

"You really scared us, Jake," my mom said softly. "And then on Tuesday you were completely fine. You really haven't explained what happened and what if it happens again? We're just worried about you."

When they put it that way, I couldn't blame them. Even though it was hardly my fault, I still felt guilty for putting them through that…and rather concerned that they realized that 'I' was acting weird from Saturday to Tuesday, three days. Maybe Ax should have pretended to be me for a little longer so it wasn't quite so clearly three days? Then again, Tom didn't seem to find that odd, not that he would tell me if he did.

"There's nothing to say," I said a little lamely. "I was just feeling a little weird and now I'm fine."

"We're all very grateful for that, Jake," my dad said. "But that's really not very much to go on. What if you feel 'a little weird' again? You say you're fine and you look fine but we would just feel a lot more comfortable if Dr. Greyfield had a look at you and could give us his expert opinion. You're going whether you like it or not but we would prefer that you be cooperative and don't fight Dr. Greyfield so that he can do his job."

"Yeah, if you sulk the whole time then that psychiatrist might decide that that means you need him," Tom added.

That was actually good advice. As much as pretending to be open and friendly might annoy me, _not_ doing so could convince him that I was antisocial or something. And since Dr. Greyfield had probably dealt with a lot of people who hadn't wanted to be there, I very much doubted that I could be so obnoxious that he wouldn't want anything more to do with me. And if he did decide that then I don't think I'd get away with a 'oh, he's fine' but rather a referral to someone else. No, the best thing to do was to go and try to act as sane as I possibly could and hope that he didn't pick up on the fact that I was incredibly stressed, going through some major life changes, and really did need someone to talk to.

My parents were still watching me for my reaction.

"I…I know that I'm fine," I said finally. "But I understand what you guys are talking about and so I guess I'll go if it makes you guys feel better."

"That's all we ask," my mom said with a hopeful smile.

Having to go to a psychiatrist is better than the alternative, having to go to a psychiatrist is better than the alternative…

Review Please!


	9. An Otherwise Empty Cage

An Otherwise Empty Cage

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

This may sound strange but I do not nor have I ever actually believed in aliens. When I was younger (and, in fact, up until two weeks ago) I thought that they probably weren't real because the odds of life appearing on just one planet was low enough so the odds of it happening again must be even smaller. I'd forgotten, I suppose, that if an event occurs once – no matter how unlikely it is – then it can occur again. I had also thought it impossible the way I thought time travel impossible: if it was real then why hadn't we ever seen any evidence of it? It turns out that time travel can occur at times and the aliens were taking great pains not to be discovered by society at large.

Two weeks ago I realized that I was wrong about aliens. Far from being just the works of overactive imaginations, they were absolutely terrifyingly real. I am, at this moment, sitting alone in a cage underground and surrounded by aliens. Still, I don't actually _believe_ in them because I don't have to. I know that they're there the same way I know that electricity is there. You never hear people professing or denying their belief in electricity, do you?

It's a little strange admitting this but I'm actually feeling a little bored. My life has completely fallen apart, my species is under attack, within the hour I'm going to have a Yeerk back in my head controlling my every movement, I haven't seen my family in two weeks, and I'm at that den of horrors, the Yeerk Pool itself and I'm _bored_. I can't help it, though. It's my sixth time here and it's always the same. The Yeerk drains out then two Hork-Bajir come to drag me to an empty cage away from the others. I'm not quite sure if it's to deprive me of even the slight comfort my fellow prisoners could provide (never mind my wife and son) or to make it even harder for my other son to try and save me. Probably both and I know that the guards have standing orders to kill me should Jake or his friends make an appearance.

Two weeks ago everything made sense. Jake and Tom were spending more and more time out of the house but Jean and I had been assured that that was completely normal teenage behavior and nothing to worry about. Had they been just hanging out with their friends like they were supposed to be doing, I suppose that would be true. Unfortunately, Tom had long since had a Yeerk in his head that was forcing him to take part in this invasion and Jake had long since been secretly doing what he could – which turned out to be quite a lot – to stymie it.

Then, a perfectly ordinary trip to get a new lawnmower that Jake couldn't make but that Tom could went horribly wrong. I hadn't even known that it was possible for shopping to go so horribly wrong but now I have an irrational hatred of lawnmowers and can't stop seeing my son helping to drag me and his mother into this hell. Of course, I'm well-aware that it wasn't actually his fault, that it was the Yeerk in his head forcing him to do so just like the Yeerks in our own heads forced Jean and I to try to kill Jake. Knowing doesn't make the memory (either) any less horrifying, though.

I had a dream about Jake turning into a bird once. Of course, I had a high fever and was delirious at the time but Jake turned into Big Bird and ended up giving us all avian flu. We were fine but Jake was so upset that he flew off to go live at Marco's house. Jean and I blamed ourselves, of course, and I woke up before that situation was resolved. Strangely, that was less disturbing than watching him do it in real life. His face just sort of…melted and it was all very bizarre. Not to mention, of course, that I was still in shock from finding out that there had been a variable masquerade going on for years and both of my sons had their part to play in preserving it.

Here was the really annoying part about having a Yeerk in your head. You may come to the conclusion intellectually that this was not your fault and that had you realized about Tom you would have just ended up in the Yeerk Pool that much faster and endangered Jake as well and that if you had realized about Jake you might have tipped off Tom and gotten everyone infested. You might know that really there was nothing that you could have done but the Yeerk will see just how impossible it is to be purely intellectual about the matter and have fun with it. He'll replay memories of Tom post-infestation and Jake once he became an Animorphs and point out every little tiny change between my sons before and after the discovered the existence of aliens and call me out for being a horrible parent for never noticing.

I try to defend myself, of course, but the fact remains that he wouldn't be saying all of this if he didn't know I was having doubts about it. At least I'm not depressed or naïve enough that I would think that he wouldn't be saying if it weren't true. It may be and it may not be but he would say it anyway and I can't believe that it is true and hope to get out of this with any remnant of sanity.

That's assuming I get through this at all. In order to make us harder targets for Jake and his Animorphs (as well as just to be cruel), the minute Jake had fled our now-scarred house and leaving behind our travel luggage, the Yeerks took us back to the Yeerk Pool and we all went our separate ways. Jake may be the free one still fighting somewhere out there but the last time I saw him was only about twenty minutes before the last time I saw Jean or Tom.

If this is to ever end, my sixteen-year-old son who grew up in his brother's shadow and never really tried to draw attention to himself must defeat an entire invading force. As a father and as someone whose fate depends upon him winning, I really want to say that I have faith in him. There is almost nothing that I want more than to be able to honestly say that I believe that he can do it. Unfortunately, while Visser One has thus far failed to impress me with his intelligence or even sanity, he does have the superior numbers and technology. No one knows how many allies Jake has or how many Animorphs but it can't possibly be anywhere near the numbers the Yeerks have and it's far easier for them to increase their numbers than it will be for Jake. Jake has to find someone trustworthy, willing to fight, and not a Controller. The Yeerks just need to find somebody with a working body.

And then, of course, there's the fact that Jake is too damn young for this. He's sixteen now and that is just barely old enough where it is no longer quite as horrifying that he's fighting a war. When this started, he was thirteen. Thirteen-year-olds have no business on a battlefield and just imagining Jake there sickens me. I've heard some of the things he's managed to pull off (destroying a Kandrona, stopping the infestation of several world leaders, shutting down a plan to infest sharks which I'm quite thankful for as the thought of a shark Controller is downright terrifying, starting and defending a colony of free Hork-Bajir…) but even so I can't quite manage to connect it with my son. The Jake that I'm familiar with, the Jake that didn't make the basketball team in junior high, who refuses to voluntarily eat anything green, and who can never remember to do the dishwasher just will not line up with the Jake that has apparently been the worst nightmare of the entire invasion for three years now. It's not like I don't have faith in my son because I do it's just…what he's done is damn impressive and almost legendary. He's not a child anymore for all he's pretended to be one and I never noticed him grow up. How could he have hidden this from us? Two weeks ago, I could have sworn that his biggest problem in life was that C- in Chemistry. I desperately want to believe that he can do this but it just seems far too big and he seems far too young.

If the Yeerks win, we'll be slaves until we die and every human hereafter will be born into slavery like with the Hork-Bajir. They may not even realize just how completely wrong and unnatural their lives are. Even should Jake win, there's no guarantee that we'll live to see it. From what I've heard, the Yeerk in Tom is on very thin ice for not noticing that Jake knew about them and was resisting them for years and so one more mistake or big Animorphs victory or even if the Visser was having a bad day and Tom was there and…And then, of course, the Yeerks could always decide to execute us if it looked like Jake was going to win just to make sure he wouldn't be able to enjoy his victory. I know my son. I know that he's blaming himself for what happened to us more than we could ever blame him and even if we all survive he might not ever be able to be happy. If one or more of us die then there's no way he ever will be. Since I know that (and because Tom and Jean undoubtedly do, too), the Yeerks know that.

It is a sad, sad day when it's a great relief to feel like I don't even know my own son anymore. Anything that I know about Jake can be used against him, either to try to defeat him or to hurt him. Anything he does could cause us to be killed to try and break him. The sad truth of the matter is that we have officially become liabilities for him. Realizing that your son would be better off if you simply weren't in the picture? That's not an easy thing to do.

I don't think of myself as a hateful man. I've always tried to stay level-headed and to understand where other people are coming from. I've always found it difficult to hold onto a grudge. Just the same…while I have never hated a group of people based on their gender, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, their beliefs or anything like that I am quickly coming to hate one for their species. It struck me last week that I hate the Yeerks. Realistically, they can't all be out to enslave and kill my entire species (and specifically, my son) and most of them here go un-hosted. I know that and I even know that there is some sort of a peace movement that works against forcible infestation and suffers greatly for it.

I don't care. Each and every one of them feels like they've played a part in bringing us to this point. I've seen so many Yeerks obsessed with the destruction of Jake and the complete subjugation of the human race that I can't even find the _energy_ to worry about distinguishing between the so-called 'good' Yeerks and the other ones, much less desire to. It really doesn't even matter if they support what's happening because they either can't or won't stop it and so it's not doing me or anyone else any good so what difference does it make if they have moral problems with what's occurring?

I've never believed in aliens, I've never wanted to, and I would do _anything_ to go back to the days where my family and I thought that they didn't even exist.

Review Please!


	10. Jealousy

Jealousy

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_He had joined The Sharing for a simple, silly reason. A pretty girl he liked was a member. He had wanted to get close to her. He had gone to meetings. He'd played along with them, never guessing the truth. All he cared about was the girl. He had stumbled, accidentally, into a secret leadership meeting. He thought the girl was seeing another boy. But she was one of them. He had followed her, wandered into the meeting and seen Visser Three, Visser Three in his Andalite body. _

-Animorphs #6.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the Sharing, to be honest. They always talk about how the individual has to give way for the group and about making sacrifices for some higher cause that nobody ever elaborates about. I've thought about it during those 'sit downs' they have every few meetings where they wax poetic about the Sharing's purpose and I've come to the conclusion that they are either spouting a whole lot of nothing or some new age cult. I don't know, they seem pretty harmless and they've got a nice basketball hoop in the back. Unlike some of the people here, I don't eat up all the rhetoric about togetherness and the lonely individual but I can sit through it just fine.

The Sharing's okay but I'm not here because it really appeals to me. No, I'm here because of Rose. Rose is probably the prettiest girl I know and one of the funniest. She's kind and smart and really into helping other people. One of the many charitable organizations Rose spends her time with – and the one she always seems to be at – is the Sharing. I had heard of it before, of course. It had been around for a few years and I had first heard of it when its founder committed suicide. You'd think that kind of thing would make people wonder about it but it really just added to its mystique. My little brother's best friend's mother actually took over the Sharing after Lore David Altman died and once she disappeared a Mr. Visser stepped up to the plate although from what I've heard he's a lot less hands-on than his predecessors were.

I've been watching Rose for awhile now but somehow she never really seemed to notice me. I figured that the best way to change that would be spending time with her and she spent a lot of time at the Sharing so I might as well check it out. It was a lot bigger and better-organized that I had expected as well as a lot friendlier. They had me fill out a questionnaire upon walking in the door (it was a little embarrassing when I couldn't remember my social security number but I wasn't sure why they needed that anyway) which was a little weird but when I asked they said that it was standard procedure so they could match new members up with a guide they'd be a good fit for when they attended their second meeting.

That…was a little weird, I had to admit. Why would we need guides? Did they think we were somehow incapable of hanging around here by ourselves or that we would all run and hide in a corner the minute we were expected to fend for ourselves? Still, Matt isn't bad. I actually knew him a little since he graduated last year and has a sister in my grade. He was on the basketball team himself so that was another thing we had in common (and I suspect my questionnaire had something to do with that). He admitted that he thinks the whole guide concept is a little stupid, too, but it's just one of those official things you've got to put up with. If I did have any questions, I could feel free to ask him but in the meantime we could just hang out.

So the Sharing was pretty fun but not really something that I was passionate about. Rose, on the other hand, was someone I _was_ interested in. My plan had actually worked perfectly there. My first few meetings I had 'just happened' to wind up near her at some point and so it was only polite to strike up a conversation. By the end of the third meeting, I had a date. One date turned into another and another and before I knew it, I had a girlfriend. Mom and Dad absolutely adore her and Jake's just happy she's willing to play video games with him whenever she's at the house.

Unfortunately, though things were going extremely well they weren't quite perfect. My comfortable schedule of hanging at the Sharing for awhile to play basketball and get closer to Rose was coming to an end. There are two levels of the Sharing, you see. There's the outer members who just show up whenever and who have a guide and then there's the inner members. I don't know much about these inner members but after so much time has passed, the outer 'trial' members hip expires. You have to join the inner members or just stop coming which seemed a little harsh.

"You're looking at this all the wrong way," Matt said, sounding a little exasperated. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation. "We're not being harsh at all."

"You're telling people that they have to become full members or stop coming," I pointed out.

"It's like with anything else that you join," Matt insisted. "Say you joined a gym. They might give you a free trial membership for a month. You can go for free however often you like for that month but once it's over you either have to stop going or actually become a member."

"So that's what these past few weeks have been?" I inquired. "A free trial membership?"

"Well, it's not like we make full members pay dues," Matt told me. "Although I, for one, would not object to being compensated for my stellar services as your guide."

I snorted. "Dream on."

"Oh, I will," Matt assured me. "We can't have a full member responsible for being your guide forever, you know. We also don't think it's fair to force you to join and have responsibilities before you decide whether you like it or not. After hanging with us for awhile, though, you've got to know if the Sharing is the place for you. Is it?"

When he put it that way, it all sounded so reasonable. "I don't know," I admitted.

"Well you'll have to decide soon," Matt reminded me. "You've got a week before your trial membership runs out. I'm not actually sure if you can stop going for awhile and then get _another_ trial membership when you come back but you've gone for long enough so you really should have worked out whether you like it here or not."

I sighed. "I know."

I had spent time with the people here and all their cheer and togetherness and if it were just me I probably would have just walked away. I had fun here but I could have fun elsewhere and I certainly didn't believe in their message. No, the Sharing was nothing special and there was only one thing keeping me coming back week after week. Rose.

Now, I didn't think for a minute that Rose would be petty enough to dump me because I didn't join a club that she had joined. After all, she hadn't pressured me to join any of the dozens of other activities she was involved in. It's just that if I stopped going she'd inevitably ask me why and I really didn't want to have to admit to her that I went because of her. She might find that sweet but there was always the risk that she'd find it shallow. Rose also didn't have a lot of free time so aside from school we mostly saw each other here. I really didn't want to suddenly have a lot less time to spend with my wonderful girlfriend just because I couldn't keeping going to the meetings.

If I really joined the Sharing, though, then that would be a commitment and Dad's always made sure that Jake and I understood that once you made a commitment you were supposed to follow it through even if you really didn't want to. Plus while not joining might not cause a fight, joining and then walking away later might. I automatically scanned the room for Rose because seeing her always made me feel better.

She wasn't there.

"Where's Rose?" I asked.

Matt nodded towards a door that only full members or those about to become full members were ever allowed through. "All the full members are having a meeting."

I stared at him. "Matt…**you're** a full member."

He didn't seem to get it. "That I am."

"If all the full members are having a meeting then why are you out here instead of in there with them?" I demanded.

"Because Mr. Visser's here today," Matt replied matter-of-factly.

I knew that. As a matter of fact, I'd see him earlier. "And?"

"And Mr. Visser frankly terrifies me so I'm waiting out here until he leaves," Matt confided. "I've found that that's the most effective way of dealing with him."

I laughed incredulously. "Your own leader terrifies you?"

"He's…strict," Matt said lamely.

"Admit it, you just don't want to go, do you?" I teased.

Matt shrugged. "Call it what you will. And let me know if you see him coming so I can make sure to duck behind you."

"But Rose is back there with him?" I asked.

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I saw her go back with Christopher."

That gave me pause. Christopher was a close friend of Rose's. It was completely platonic or so she had assured me time and time again and yet I saw the way he looked at her. It wasn't _nearly _platonic for him and he had known her far longer than I did, knew her far _better_ than I did and now they were off alone together. Sure Matt had claimed it was some full members only meeting but he wasn't there and if there even was a meeting who was to say that Rose and Christopher were in attendance?

"I've got to go," I said vaguely, heading for the full members only door.

Matt looked alarmed. "Wait, Tom, where are you going?"

"I have to go find Rose," I answered. I trusted Rose…or at least I wanted to. I knew that if I didn't go back there now and see for myself what was going on then it would keep gnawing at me and poison my relationship with Rose. Sure, she might be upset if she thought I didn't trust her but I thought that was something that we could work through far easier than this slowly growing jealousy.

"You _can't_ go back there," Matt insisted.

"I have to," I said, throwing open the door.

"Don't do this," Matt almost begged. "This is a horrible idea and you're only going to regret it."

I ignored him and shut the door behind me. Matt just let me go. I guess he really didn't want to risk running into this Mr. Visser. The hallway before me looked just like everywhere else in the building and there were doors all over. I tried each one. Some were locked. Others opened to reveal rather ordinary-looking meeting rooms. I actually came across the kitchen but while all the lights were on there was no one in there. Perhaps they were at this full members meeting as well?

There was one final door at the end of the hallway. I could just make out voices coming through the door. Unlike the rest of this hallway, there were people in here. Maybe this was the meeting. If I went in there I could see what Rose and Christopher were doing if they were even in there. I had no idea how I'd explain my presence. It's not like I could have _accidentally_ ended up back here given how careful they are to stress this door's location and the fact that non-members like myself aren't allowed back here. Still, I've always been pretty good at thinking on my feet.

I raised my hand to knock but stopped before actually doing so. What if my worst fears were taking place behind that door? What if Rose and Christopher were there and they were together? I didn't want to give them time to cover up what they were doing. Though I wasn't entirely sure I'd like what I was about to see, I was determined to see it all the same.

I opened the door.

Review Please!


	11. Seerow's True Lesson

Seerow's True Lesson

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Despite what we'd all assured Ax, we were having a little bit of trouble coming to grips with his story…or at least Marco was. And not even necessarily for the reasons that Ax would have thought.

Personally, I had mostly forgiven him for everything that had happened since the day we took him to school with us which, in hindsight, hadn't been the best idea we'd ever had. See, the fact that it was getting blatantly obvious that he never told us anything should have been the main reason that I was upset but it wasn't. Oh, it still bothered me a lot but what had really got to me was the fact that Ax had seemed to think that my brother being a controller made it a valid worry that if I had known that the Yeerks might kill hosts if the Yeerks died in public then I wouldn't have destroyed the Kandrona. This concern was the kind of thing that I didn't want happening (and why I had hesitated so much about confessing my fears about Tom when we were facing the hosptital project) but I had thought that the fact that I was willing to sabotage the Yeerks' hospital plans despite knowing it could get Tom killed would have convinced them that I wasn't about to give the Yeerks a major victory just to protect my brother.

"I mean, I can respect the guy's motives," Marco was saying as we slowly made our way to his house. His dad would probably still be there because of his sprained ankle but as we were fairly certain he wasn't a controller it felt safer than being at my house even though we weren't about to start talking about the war where _anyone _could hear us. "But I am really questioning his basic judgment here."

"It's not really fair to look at the way things happened and use hindsight to call him an idiot," I pointed out.

"No, I agree but that's not my only reason," Marco insisted.

I raised my eyebrows. "Really."

"Yes, really. All I'm saying is that there were some very basic indicators that maybe he wasn't making the best decision and that he either didn't notice them or outright ignored them is kind of unbelievable," Marco declared.

I laughed. "Marco, we know almost nothing about the situation. All Ax said was that Seerow went to the Yeerk Homeworld, saw the Yeerks were intelligent, felt sorry for them, and gave them technology. At some point the Andalites stopped watching closely enough or something and the Yeerks went out to terrorize the galaxy. I guess you could say that the Andalites should have been paying more attention but who knows how long it had been since they had first made contact? Maybe the Yeerks appeared trustworthy for years on end and it was only after, I don't know, a few decades that they started conquering people."

"I'll give you that one," Marco said easily. "But we really don't _need_ to know any more to see the problems here and the fact that even without all the details I can see why that was probably going to end badly means that Seerow and his boys – who had all the facts – have really no excuse for not seeing it."

When Marco got going like this, I never knew when, exactly, he was going to get to the point. We only had so long a walk to his house and so I decided to speed him along. "Just spit it out, Marco."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Why do you always have to ruin all my fun, Jake?"

"Because your fun is dragging on so long that I wouldn't be surprised if we were literally the forty-year-olds you always accuse me of being by the time you're done," I said tolerantly.

"Would you say that the fact that the Yeerks were a parasitic race was some great secret that the Andalites were not privy to?" Marco asked rhetorically. "Because Ax made it sound like part of the reason Seerow felt sorry for them was because they were so intelligent and the Gedds they controlled weren't very good hosts." He paused. "What _is_ a Gedd, anyway?"

This I could help him out with. "They're those monkey-like creatures we saw on the Yeerk mother ship. Or whatever it's really called."

Marco was quiet for a moment and I knew why. I'd just broken two unspoken taboos. We didn't talk about the fact that his mother was Visser One which we had found out on the Yeerk mother ship and we certainly didn't talk about that time I was infested which Marco probably realized was how I knew what a Gedd was. Sometimes I think the others are more eager to pretend that that never happened than I am. If them seeing me like that was anything like what seeing Tom is like for me then I don't blame them.

"Right," he finally said uncomfortably before quickly moving away from those forbidden topics. "Well think about it. The Yeerks have the ability to control other species. The Yeerks are controlling the Gedds. They meet the Andalites who, by all accounts, would be much better to be than a Gedd. What did they think was going to happen?"

I took a guess. "That they were all going to live in peace and harmony and travel the stars together forever?"

"I mean, let's take the specifics out of it. Let's just assume that this is a sci-fi movie. There is a race of parasites who each need someone else's body. They all have a really crappy body and then they meet a race of people with much better bodies. What is the plot of this movie?"

"How the parasites try to steal the bodies of the better species," I said reluctantly.

"Exactly! Any bad sci-fi movie can tell you that that's just a disaster waiting to happen. And even on the off chance that it wouldn't happen for once, why take that risk and let down your guard?" Marco demanded.

"You seem to be forgetting the fact that the Yeerks didn't actually start trying to steal the Andalites' bodies," I pointed out.

Marco waved that off. "While we still don't have all the details on that, the fact that they're at war with the Andalites and really seem to prize the one body they _did_ manage to take makes me think that that just wasn't practical at the time but they're still working on it."

"There's one problem with your sci-fi movie comparison," I told Marco.

He looked a little miffed at the thought of his analogy being in any way inadequate. "Oh? And what is that?"

"In a sci-fi movie, something _has_ to go wrong or there won't be a plot," I said reasonably. "In real life, we don't have a plot. Conflicts don't have to have resolutions, questions don't have to be answered, and nothing exciting really needs to happen at all. That's why the parasites will always turn on the people helping them in the movies but it doesn't always have to be like that in real life."

Marco deflated a little. "You do have a point…but still. Sci-fi movies will teach you that if you ever do meet a race of parasites when you're a lot more appealing than their original hosts that you should be wary lest they decide to infest you instead."

"Do the Andalites even have sci-fi movies?" I wondered.

"If not then I think we all know what's to blame for all of this," Marco said grimly.

The thought that this entire intergalactic war could have been avoided if only the Andalites had watched sci-fi movies was too much for me and I started laughing. After a few seconds, Marco joined in.

Once we'd calmed down, I said, "You know, something that the Andalites didn't seem to think about is that while the Gedds may have been primitive they were still sentient. They could still be confused and scared by what was happening and the Yeerks were still enslaving them."

It's not like I could blame the Andalites, of course. If I hadn't seen the memories of a Gedd myself then I doubt it would have occurred to me, either.

Marco tactfully ignored the second allusion to my infestation. "See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. If they are _already_ enslaving one species then that should be a warning sign that you need to be careful. Something tells me we're going to have to add snobbery to the list of reasons we're in this mess right now."

"Now we have a list?" I asked him.

Marco shrugged. "Well, we've got two things. That makes a list, right?"

I was getting a bad feeling about this. "Does this mean you're going to keep adding to this list?"

Marco smirked. "You know me too well. Hey, what do you think about the way the Andalites responded to the Yeerks betraying them? The whole law of 'Seerow's Kindness'?"

"I don't know. I guess they realized that they had to be more careful and are trying to make sure that that could never happen again," I said. "They go a little far, though. I mean, they can't even tell people _why_ they aren't going to tell anybody anything?"

"I think that's more embarrassment than anything else," Marco decided. "After all, it makes them look _really_ stupid. And they didn't even learn the right lesson from that, either."

I cocked my head. "Oh no?"

"They seem to have decided that they messed up _one_ time – with admittedly disastrous results – and so they should just never tell anybody anything ever again. It will probably stop this kind of thing from ever happening again but it's a little extreme," Marco claimed.

"So what do you think they should have learned?" I challenged.

Marco clapped his hands together. "The lesson they should have learned is simple but eloquent: don't be a dumbass."

I snorted. "What?"

"Don't be a dumbass," Marco repeated. "Don't blindly trust a race that can enslave you so completely but also don't get all reactionary and don't even tell your own allies basic information about the Yeerks needed to fight them."

I shook my head in amusement. "So you think that the Andalites' problems would be solved if they just focused on not being dumbasses?"

Marco nodded seriously. "I think most problems would be solved that way. It's probably easier said than done, though, and if the Andalites truly don't have faith in their ability to act like rational people…"

"Oh, stop it. Besides, this whole 'Seerow's Kindness' thing is really working out for us," I mused. "The Yeerks probably know about it and so they know that if the Andalites won't even talk to other species then they're certainly not going to be sharing, say, morphing technology with them. That's why no one's seriously entertaining the possibility that we might be humans."

"That's the Yeerks not learning anything from Seerow either," Marco announced. "And Ax for that matter."

I frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean? Ax trusted us with the story of Seerow even if it did take awhile. You know that he's around our age so of course he doesn't want to break his peoples' most sacred laws lightly."

"I'm not talking about that," Marco assured me. "I was thinking more about the 'Who knows, one day you humans might be just like the Yeerks' part."

"Well, we do have a history of societal intolerance and conquering," I pointed out.

"And I could absolutely see us insisting on colonizing every habitable planet we discover exists," Marco agreed. "But come on, at our worst we could never trap people in their own heads while we read their every thoughts and control their every movement."

"Not yet," I acknowledged. "But who knows what technology we'll come up with one day?"

Marco glared at me. "Whose side are you even on?"

Review Please!


	12. What Are The Odds?

What Are The Odds?

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Strictly speaking, within hours of the first attack by the Andalite Bandits (better known as the one chance I'd had for freedom since this whole mess started. Given what they've went on to do I don't feel my sacrifice was wasted) the first rumors that maybe they were human began to spread. Nobody believed it at first, of course.

Everyone knew that only Andalites had the power to morph and Visser One (who seemed almost personally offended at the very suggestion that his replacements for Elfangor could possibly be human) insisted that not sharing technology like that was one of the single most important Andalite laws. Given that the Andalites had apparently had something to do with the Yeerks setting out to conquer everyone – or the Yeerks claimed – this didn't really surprise me. A mess-up of that degree really should lead to a rethinking on information-sharing policies.

So in addition to the fact that mentioning the theory that it was humans all along around the Visser was almost guaranteed to drastically shorten your life expectancy, no one could quite figure out how it was possible that a human would have gotten ahold of the technology. Morphing cubes weren't exactly the kind of thing anyone would just leave lying around in a fighter and the Andalite Bandits had been around for a few weeks before they discovered the wreckage of the main part of the Andalite ship and the one we knew _had_ to be an Andalite as he was rarely in morph showed up.

We had eventually learned that Elfangor and the one from the bottom of the ocean hadn't been the only proven Andalites to survive the battle. Their names escape me but one of them didn't have a tail and the other had a fatal disease so the first was held hostage until the second one could give the Yeerks a healthy and whole Andalite in exchange for his friend. I kind of doubted that the Yeerks would have actually given him back but we'll never know since the Andalite Bandits intervened and staged a rescue. I still think it would have been smart of the Yeerks to have infested the one they captured just to see what he knew that could be helpful to their cause (new technology the Yeerks hadn't stolen yet, security codes, military plans, you name it) but apparently the Yeerks didn't see the need to. Given that I'm not actually on the Yeerks' side, I'm glad of it.

We did all realize that the two Andalites the Yeerks didn't feel were good enough to serve as hosts – lucky bastards – weren't especially interested in humans so they wouldn't have given any humans the power to morph even if they happened to have a cube on them. The ocean Andalite showed up after the Andalite Bandits announced themselves so he couldn't have done it either. We didn't know of any other temporary survivors besides Elfangor but we did know that there were some humans that are still free to this day present at his execution. For all we know, Elfangor was aware of them and told them what was going on. We were pretty sure they were just children but they've had the sense not to come forward in all this time and I somehow doubt that they _all_ would have coincidentally died in the past three years. They were still out there and they might even still be in California since, as kids, they wouldn't be able to just pack up and move like adults could.

The first real support for the 'the Andalite Bandits are secretly humans pretending to be Andalites' theory came nearly two years ago when that one kid tried to sell a morphing cube. The minute someone reported that, we knew that humans _could_ have gained the ability to morph. Furthermore, at least one human had: David. Strangely, he quickly seemed to disappear. Visser One said that the Andalites realized how weak and worthless a human was in a fight and killed him. As per usual, no one was brave or foolish enough to disagree with him. As the Visser had been alternately gloating over and bemoaning the fact that David had nearly turned on the Andalites right then and there for the obviously false promise of getting his parents back, the Andalites may very well and decided he was more trouble than he was worth.

So Elfangor _could_ have had a morphing cube for whatever reason and probably did encounter some humans that he could have given the power to. Our resident Elfangor-expert himself said that it was something that Elfangor absolutely would have done, too. No one could quite believe that a bunch of kids could have possibly pulled off the skillful guerilla warfare that the Bandits have been waging for the past three years. Still, slowly the suspicions started to pile up and finally the now-Visser One decided to do something about it.

Now, it wasn't as if anyone believed that the potentially-human Bandits would be stupid enough to donate their blood to the Sharing. In fact, they probably realized what we were doing the minute they heard of the blood drive but, assuming that they hadn't taken a huge security risk and told everybody that was related to them in the area all about the invasion, their families could still donate and unwittingly sell them out.

To keep up appearances, all of the full members donated blood (or had it stolen, really, as I don't remember consenting to having my blood taken to see if any of my family members warranted Yeerk attention) and it was even tested. I'm pretty sure that you could hardly live with an Andalite Bandit and not notice it but you could have a more distant match. Take me, for example. If Aunt Naomi was one of the Bandits…well, not her, she's not actually a blood relative. My cousin Rachel, then. If she were one then I'd be a match and I don't see her nearly enough to have any idea what sort of extracurricular activities she gets up to.

I had been hoping that this would all be a waste of time, that the Andalite Bandits would either really be Andalites or able to keep their relatives from giving blood. Once we all knew who the Bandits really were then they'd be forced to go on the run and be living on borrowed time. Unfortunately, earlier today the Bandits attacked the facility that was testing the blood which strongly indicated that they were human (or Andalites making sure we'd waste our time for whatever reason) and there was a positive match which confirmed it.

So. The Andalite Bandits are at least partially human. I wonder what we'll be calling them now? The resistance? From the Yeerks' point of view, they'd probably be more rebels than anything for all that that makes me think of Star Wars.

{It _would_ be a member of Loren's family,} Visser One fumed. {I should have hunted her down long ago, blind and amnesiac or not.}

Chapman cleared his throat. "Do you know her, Visser?"

{I still find it hard to believe that _you_ do not,} the Visser replied. {It was the son. Elfangor's son, I just know it. I knew he couldn't have been that pathetic waste of life he appeared to be and what other human would Elfangor have reproduced with?}

None of this meant anything to me but I dearly hoped that this mysterious son of Elfangor would be taking steps to not get captured by the Yeerks. If Elfangor had a son, I could see why the Andalites might give him the power to morph but did that mean that he was the only human or were there others?

An older woman shuffled quietly into the room just then and, without looking at anyone, handed Chapman a piece of paper and then hurried away. It would appear that she had bad news then and was relying on Chapman to inform the Visser so she'd be less likely to find herself suddenly decapitated. Or even if he were feeling in a forgiving mood and only took an arm, it would take some doing to try to explain that. No controller would bat an eye at someone suddenly missing a limb but among those fortunate enough not to know about Yeerks, it's kind of a big deal and definitely a cause for some concern. At least he usually had the sense to lop off someone's arm when there wasn't a Taxxon in the immediate area.

Chapman scanned the paper and then, eyes unnaturally wide, he turned to stare straight at me.

{I'm not sure what this news is but it can't possibly be good for me,} the Yeerk said worriedly. {But I can't think of anything I might have done…}

Like I usually was when it appeared that the Yeerk in my head was in trouble, I was torn between being worried about what the Visser would do to me to punish the Yeerk and hopeful that my time as a controller would be coming to a close. I was long past having any real inclination to live, of course, but I knew that losing me (or finding out that they'd lost me years ago, to be more accurate) would kill Jake and my parents and I really didn't want to do that to them.

{What is it?} the Visser snapped.

Chapman cleared his throat again. "We've found another match."

All four of the Visser's eyes turned towards Chapman. {Well?}

Chapman hesitated.

{I don't have all day,} Visser One said dangerously.

"Not one but _two_ blood samples are a match for Tom Berenson," Chapman revealed reluctantly. Chapman was on good terms with my Yeerk so it made sense that he wasn't looking forward to telling the Visser about this.

{Tom Berenson…I've heard that name before,} the Visser mused.

"Th-that would be my host, Visser," the Yeerk spoke up, unable to keep the fear completely out of my voice.

I couldn't believe it. I was related to an Andalite Bandit. No, I was related to _two_ of them. How was this possible? I was having a hard enough time accepting that the Andalite Bandits were even human in the first place and now they were family? And now they were in danger because of me. They might have been in danger for years because of me, because I had a Yeerk in my head that would notice if they let their mask of ordinariness slip in my presence. The people I loved could get infested because of me. That had always been a possibility but it had rarely seemed as certain as it did now.

I couldn't believe it. Not one but two members of my family knew what had happened to me. That was actually the worst part of being a controller, knowing that for all the horror you were going through every minute of every day no one else had any idea unless they were just as trapped as you were. And now apparently that wasn't true. Now two people knew and, more than that, they were fighting the Yeerks and they were doing a lot of damage. Two members of _my_ family were slowly driving the already unstable Visser One into full-blown insanity.

I couldn't believe it. The Andalite Bandits had been around for three years now. When they first appeared, I had ended up saving the tiger by distracting the Visser so they _had_ to know that I was a controller. They knew for at least three years and yet they did nothing. I'm still here. Yeah, they really couldn't have just killed the Yeerk and then let me go about my daily life because the Yeerks would have known that I was supposed to be a controller but there had to have been something they could have done. They could have faked my death or something. They have a whole free colony of Hork-Bajir out there and since none of my relatives have gone missing for a few days while the Bandits are up in the arctic or something like that they must have a way to make it look like they're there when they're not. They could have done something and now their failure to do so may end up costing them.

I couldn't believe it. Who could it be? I had a lot of family but the only ones living in Santa Barbara were my immediate family and Aunt Naomi's. Aunt Naomi, of course, was out because she wouldn't be a match as she married my dad's brother. My cousin Sara was a toddler when this started, my cousin Jordan was only elven, and my cousin Rachel was thirteen. If any of the three had to be a Bandit I'd say it would be Rachel just because while thirteen was far too young to be believable, eleven was even more impossible.

It probably wasn't Jake for the same reason it wasn't Rachel, he was just too young. Too…Jake. My parents, then? They were certainly old enough although I had a hard time believing they could just leave me here. I can't really buy Jake doing that either while Rachel's family might be able to since they weren't really close to us. My parents also seemed supportive of the Sharing and expressed a slight interest in joining from time to time – though they thankfully never followed through – while Jake was the one who really seemed to hate it. But then…if someone did know that the Sharing was a front for the Yeerks and didn't want anyone to suspect anything then it would make a lot more sense to pretend to encourage it while staying away from it then by openly despising it like Jake does.

I can't really see my parents going off to war but if they're the only people that really fit.

The Visser stalked over towards me and put his face very close to mine. {Are you telling me that you've been living with human rebels all this time and you _never even noticed_?}

The Yeerk didn't say anything. Nothing he could possibly say could calm the Visser down and it might even provoke him further.

"We don't know if it's immediate family yet," Chapman intervened. "It may be someone else. We should infest them to be sure."

{Excellent idea,} Visser One seemed pleased. {Bring them in tonight.}

HORRIBLE idea. No. If my parents really were morph-capable then they could probably be trusted to take care of themselves but what about Jake? All I've ever wanted was to protect him and I honestly don't think I can handle seeing him infested.

Surprisingly, the Yeerk seemed to agree with me. Well, slightly. It wasn't like it cared if Jake or my parents got infested, just that right now wouldn't be the best time. "It's late, Visser. I couldn't convince them to go anywhere right now and so they'd have to be taken by force. If that happens, then they might see us coming and escape."

The Visser didn't like being argued with. {Then what do you propose?} he demanded.

"Tomorrow morning, my host's family is planning on going to purchase a new lawnmower. The mall has several entrances to the Yeerk Pool. We can take them then."

Review Please!


	13. The Morning After

The Morning After

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Glancing up, I saw that Cassie was almost to safety above us, with one human rider. The rest of us, along with Tom and a pitiful handful of freed humans, were bunched together. Visser Three began pelting the staircase ahead of us with fire. We were trapped. Fire ahead. Visser Three himself behind. _

_"No," I heard a familiar voice say. "No, you filthy creep. You aren't going to win this time." It was Tom. All alone, he charged at Visser Three, armed with nothing but his fists. One of the Visser's arms came down and swung at him. _

_{Tom!} I cried...I saw Tom stagger from the Visser's blow. I saw him fall from the edge of the stairs. I went a little crazy. I was on the Visser before I knew what was happening...The Visser roared in pain. I roared in hatred. And we ran, ran, ran up those stairs with a hundred nightmares on our heels..._

_I was lying in my own bed, shaking and shivering and crying from the aftereffects of terror, when I heard him come home later that night. He never knew that I was the tiger. He never knew how close I had come to freeing him. He was a Controller again. The Yeerk was in his head once more. _

-Animorphs #1.

It was just another Tuesday morning, really. I had school today and would have it for the next three days after that. For all that had changed, it occurred to me that very little actually had. The Yeerks had already been there and my friends and I knowing about it only made us aware of what already existed. Really, all that had changed was that five humans were aware and free and one of them – one of us – had become a bird.

I had had a bad feeling from the moment I first saw Tobias in that form. I didn't know why but it seemed to fit him far more than his real human body did. I didn't understand but it bothered me and I'll even admit to it scaring me a little. That was why I made him morph back at that Sharing meeting we went to. I should have made him morph back when we went to the Yeerk Pool. I almost did but then we found out that Cassie was already down there and…I don't know. Things got hectic. Maybe if I'd put my foot down I would have been able to save him. Maybe it would still have taken longer than two hours for Tobias to escape the Yeerk Pool. I don't know why it took Tobias so long to get out but I guess that once we had all made it out and he was somehow left behind they were on the lookout for a morph. I don't know how he managed to finally get out, either, and he wasn't really up for talking about it.

He's probably found the others and told them by now. It was strange. Last night I had left my house half-convinced that I was never going to see my parents again because I'd die down there in the Yeerk Pool. I hadn't quite let myself think about the fact that dying wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to me because if I had then I don't know how I would have made it down there. Marco had, though, of course he had. He was the eternal cynic and he had made me promise to never let the Yeerks take him. I had managed to keep my promise then. I wonder if I'll be able to continue to do so. When I found out that that cop had taken Cassie (I had _told_ her I'd be fine on my own but had she listened? Of course not. Wonderful, caring Cassie had almost ruined everything) I became even more convinced that our first actions against the Yeerks would be our last.

For all that I was prepared to die – or as prepared as anyone could be – and even secretly worried about infestation and whether a tiger could be controlled, Tobias' fate had barely occurred to me. I worried when I arrived to find him already in morph, of course, but there were just so many more pressing concerns to deal with and he'd been cutting it close ever since he got the morph. I had left him to deal with morphing back in time and, for whatever reason, he hadn't. Maybe he couldn't. I'd like to believe that he couldn't. Still, as I watched him fly away early this morning, a terrible thought had occurred to me. Had he done it on purpose? Of course, I'll never believe that he deliberately set out to trap himself and take himself out of the fight that he wouldn't let us just walk away from. Just the same…subconsciously…he already had been running away from being human when he morphed. Now it was just a little more permanent. I would never ask him, of course, and I'll try not to wonder.

A week ago I was waiting to see if I had made the cut for the basketball team. I had been hopeful but not overly so because regardless of if I had made it, I hadn't been _that_ good. Friday I had found out that I hadn't made it. It was something I had wanted for a long time and only four days ago. What's more, it was a last-ditch effort to try to reconnect with my brother. I honestly couldn't bring myself to care about that. What's a little thing like not making some middle school team matter in the face of evil aliens determined to enslave and destroy your entire planet?

"Midget, are you planning on actually eating that or just staring at it all day?" Tom asked as he wandered into the kitchen. It was still early but he already had his backpack on.

I looked down at my rather-soggy Lucky Charms. "Let me get back to you on that. You're not staying?"

Tom shook his head. "Nah, I've got a meeting this morning. I should be home for dinner, though, and if not tell Mom that I'll call."

"Will do," I agreed.

As Tom opened the door, something made me call him back.

"Hey, listen, Tom…I just wanted to thank you," I told him, hoping I wasn't giving anything away but not really able to do anything else.

Tom turned back to me with a quizzical expression on his face. "For what?"

I shrugged. "Oh, you know."

"If you say so…"

And then he was gone. And even though I hated to admit it, I did breathe a little easier knowing that he was safely out of the house. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother. That said, he has a Yeerk in his head and that meeting of his is probably to look for me and my friends. Fortunately, the Yeerks seem to think we're Andalites as only Andalites have the power to morph. Even Visser Three can only morph because he's controlling an Andalite. I'm not entirely sure how successfully I'll be able to pull off pretending to be a member of a species I know next to nothing about but not directly communicating with someone who would be an expert on them like Visser Three seems like a good start. And then, of course, there's the fact that I really don't want anything to do with Visser Three.

It's been about two and a half days since I realized why, exactly, it had felt like Tom and I were growing apart over the last year. It wasn't my fault and it wasn't his fault. It wasn't even just one of those things that happened as you got older. It was because he had an evil slug in his brain that didn't care about me and since I wouldn't join the Sharing it had little interest in me. I didn't know how long ago he'd been taken but it had been at least a year since I'd first heard him talking about the Sharing. How could I not have noticed? Sure, that was how they were managing to have a secret invasion but I still felt like I should have noticed when my own brother was replaced by an alien.

It really did seem like he was managing to be a better brother than me lately (although what else was new?), enslaved though he was. When I went to that meeting of the Sharing the other day, I had no intention of joining it. He didn't know that, obviously, as it would be rather…odd to say the least for me to go to an organization that I had no interest in and hang out there. If I had a perfectly innocuous reason like having nothing better to do then it wouldn't have been a big deal but since we were there to spy on them I didn't want to appear out of the ordinary.

Well, the normal façade fooled me and it fooled Marco. Cassie seemed to sense something was wrong – she's got some great instincts – and Rachel was quick to agree but they only came over after I'd realized what happened. Strangely enough, my brother was the one to let me know that he was a controller. I'd examined the Sharing and decided that they were perfectly normal and, dare I say it, kind of fun. He had worried that I might join up and somehow managed to gain control of his face long enough to send me a small warning. It was just a little twitch of his head and a look in his eye for a second. If I hadn't already known about the Yeerks and suspected about the Sharing then it probably wouldn't have meant anything to me. Since I did, that tiny movement meant that Marco was right. My brother was a controller.

I'm still not used to the idea. It's only been a few days and it's hard to be in the same room as him and pretend that everything's normal. I've never been much of an actor but now I can't afford to mess up. If I don't make everything seem like it always was…well, maybe it's a good thing that the Yeerk's been pulling away from me after and I think I'm going to have to widen the gap as well. The less time spent with him, the less time he can figure out that I know about the invasion. The Yeerk wouldn't even have to work out that I was one of the 'Andalite Bandits' because simple knowledge of the Yeerks would be enough to condemn me even if I never did anything to oppose the Yeerks ever again.

But I would, of course I would. I couldn't go down to the hell that was the Yeerk Pool and not. After seeing what the Yeerks had done to Elfangor it was hard not to do _something_ for all that I didn't know what to do and expected to get slaughtered. For that matter, I still expect that. We're at risk even now and the more we do, the greater the risk. If the Yeerks are so dangerous and so competent then sooner or later they'll find us even if they are expecting Andalites. But…all those people in those cages. All the screaming. All the sudden, terrible silence when their Yeerk Masters returned.

I wasn't going to say that I didn't have a choice because that would be an insult to the people the Yeerks stole who literally had none. It didn't feel like a choice, though. Not when everything was so awful and my friends and I were appear to be the only thing standing in the way of the Yeerks and world domination. Yeah, we are _so_ going to get ourselves killed. At least the Yeerks are pretty slow-moving or haven't been here long because I honestly don't know how we're going to be able to hold out a year until the Andalites come as it is.

I almost died yesterday. There were flames in front of us and Visser Three himself behind. It was a challenge to get out through the flames as it was and I saw the Visser turn his attention towards me. He was in a monstrous morph with eight fire-breathing heads, eight tentacle-like arms, and eight massive legs. I think he told us what it was but I had been far too busy trying to stay alive to remember. Visser Three was going to kill me and then Tom saved me.

He hadn't known it was me, obviously, and he couldn't do much as a human. He hadn't even been able to wound the Taxxons and yet he had managed to save us. Charging at the Visser, Tom had managed to distract him for long enough for us to get out of there. After, of course, I'd shown the Visser what I thought of him knocking my brother off the stairs. Until Tom had returned that night, I wasn't sure if he'd survived that fall or the Taxxons at the bottom of the stairs.

As I had lay awake, physically unable to sleep and waiting to see if Tom and Tobias were okay (or as 'okay' as Tom could be with a Yeerk in his head) it had occurred to me that even if things had gone according to plan and we had freed Tom, we wouldn't have known what to do next. The Yeerks knew who he was and if he showed up without a Yeerk they'd just kill him or retake him and maybe do the same to my family. We had nowhere to hide him, either. I hated it. I knew what was happening to him and I _could_ stop it and yet…what then? I didn't have the answer and until I did I knew I wouldn't be able to help Tom.

He had saved me and I couldn't return the favor. I couldn't even let him know that I recognized what he had done and appreciated it. I had to thank him, though, even if I couldn't explain why. Even if everything depended on him _never_ knowing why.

Nothing had changed in the end except me and the others. The Animorphs. It was just another one of those jokes of Marco's but we didn't have anything better to name ourselves so why not? Nothing had changed yet but it would even if I wasn't quite sure how we'd go about doing that yet. My brother had sacrificed himself to save me and I would have to make that worth something, somehow.

Review Please!


	14. Cousin

'Cousin'

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

David was perhaps our most dangerous enemy yet. Unlike the Yeerks (well, except Aftran but by this point we had sort of come to accept that she was unlikely to sell us out) he knew not only our real species but our names and addresses as well. Never let it be said that David didn't know how to make use of such information. He had locked Marco in his closet while setting a trap by pretending to be him, he had snuck into Rachel's house and offered commentary of her attempts to comfort Jordan, and he had even been staying with me for awhile. Cassie he had left alone, which didn't really surprise me. He had always seemed to be trying to leave her out of any of the altercations he had with us.

Tobias and Ax he had written off as not being human. Marco had been…well, _Marco_ and I think at some point David picked up on the fact that Marco would have been more comfortable leaving him for the Yeerks. I had let Rachel go after David while she was angry and that was really self-explanatory. As for me, David resented the fact that I was the leader and expected him to listen to me. It's not like I'm some wannabe dictator or anything. I just sort of expect everyone to not be a complete idiot and do things like running away in the middle of the night when the entire Yeerk invasion is after them in order to break into an inn to watch television.

Maybe we could have been more understanding of David but he had the worst possible timing to announce to the world that he had the morphing cube and we had kind of considered keeping the leaders of the free world from infestation to be more important than coddling him.

Apparently David had disagreed.

For all that Rachel has slowly begun to scare me, it took her over a year to get to this point. David reached it in a matter of days and I'm still not even sure of the why. We're the only even semi-organized resistance to the Yeerk invasion that seeks to enslave and destroy everything on this planet. If we had never heard of David, he still would have put the morphing cube on E-Bay and attracted Visser Three's attention. His father would still have been infested but he would have gotten taken as well. Maybe they would have left before his mother got home but they might have taken her anyway just so the Yeerks in David and his father wouldn't have to hide at home.

If it hadn't been for us, not only would David himself have become a Controller but the Yeerks would have gained the morphing power. Given all the damage just having _one_ morph-capable Yeerk's caused, I'm pretty sure that if they had gotten their hands on the cube then it would have been game over. Even if they had only managed to acquire Earth animals, they still would have been more than capable of taking us out. The entire world would have been quickly doomed and the galaxy after that. The Yeerks were the ones who took his parents and destroyed his life. How, exactly, were we the bad guys?

Because we had some concern for security? Because we had more important things to do than to wait for him to come to terms with his parents' infestation? Yeah, we expected him to move on pretty fast but it wasn't like we didn't have good cause. Stopping the banquet was probably our most important mission to date and we couldn't just put it off because David wasn't ready. Was it because none of us have had our entire families infested? It's not like Marco, Rachel, and I aren't related to Controllers even if I'm the only one who lives with one. Was it because of the fact that we disapproved of him treating morphing like it was a game or some lame get-rich-quick scheme? Alien invasions seemed just a little bit more vital than making money.

Whatever his problems with us were personally, we're still all that stands in the way of Earth and total Yeerk domination. If he didn't want to fight with us, I could understand that if not quite respect it. It had taken all of us awhile to agree to get involved and who knew if we even would have had my brother not been a Controller? Marco would have quit once if he hadn't seen his mother on a Yeerk ship, Cassie had wanted out at one point not too long ago as well, and Rachel had almost moved in with her dad in another state. In fact, we had all agreed to let the Ellimist take us away from the fight when we first met him even if that offer had ultimately just been a smokescreen to show us where the Kandrona was.

It wasn't a problem if he couldn't or wouldn't fight with us. It was when he decided that we were the enemy and was actively going to work against us – potentially even with the Yeerks – that we knew that we had to stop him. And stop him we did. It wasn't easy, given his power to morph. I suppose that I had never truly appreciated just how powerful and even aggravating the morphing power could be for all that we had been using pretty much just that to oppose the Yeerks all this time.

We stopped David, the six of us, and all came out a little worse for the wear. Rachel and Ax, especially, as they had had to watch him run out of time to turn back. I think it might have actually been kinder to just kill him but, unlike David, I can't stop seeing people as human just because they're in morph and murdering a human in cold blood isn't something that I think I could do. I hope I never find out otherwise. My line's already been a little adjusted anyway when I realized that I could use Rachel after all and not feel anywhere near as guilty as I probably should.

But it was over. That was the important thing to remember. David was gone and we would never hear from him again. In time, we would forget.

While we had been planning getting rid of him and actually executing that plan, there was one thing that I'd…not quite _forgotten_ but definitely hadn't given its proper consideration. Even if I had, I knew that it couldn't change anything. David was just too big of a risk and he had proved a willingness to try to kill us that was almost sociopathic time and time again.

It had been six days since David had been trapped and thus 'Saddler' had disappeared. Aunt Ellen and Uncle George had never looked so scared before but they hadn't quite given up hope, even if it was rapidly fading. They were still staying with us but despite the inconvenience – our house really wasn't big enough for nine people – I couldn't bring myself to be annoyed with that or with the childish antics of Justin, Brooke, or even Forrest. I was a large part of the reason that the last member of their family had suddenly disappeared, after all.

I tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fault. I hadn't told David to impersonate my cousin, after all. Just the same, would he have even heard about Saddler if it hadn't been for me? Somehow, I rather doubted it. Even though I hadn't expected David to do something like that, the fact remained that I was still the only reason that he even knew in the first place.

I had actually completely forgotten that he'd known about it until I arrived at the hospital that day in the middle of a postponed fight with Rachel and saw 'Saddler' miraculously sitting up in bed, talking and laughing and not a tiny bit injured. A miracle, the doctors had said. I knew better. Even if Saddler would have made a miraculous recovery and wouldn't die like everyone had expected, it would take time for him to heal. I don't know what I would have made of it had this taken place during a more normal week but it hadn't. This was during the time David was out somewhere and determined to hurt us if not outright destroy us. It was just so obvious that I'm a little surprised Rachel didn't see it right away. It wasn't a miracle and David was the furthest thing from one.

What David did was wrong on _so_ many levels. To begin with, he had to get rid of the real Saddler somehow or nobody would have ever believed his miracle story. Unless Saddler had just happened to die naturally on the elevator after David had knocked out the doctor and nurse taking him to surgery then David had killed Sadler. What, did being severely injured mean that Saddler didn't count as a human or something? I guess that just goes to show how little his so-called ethical code was really worth. While Saddler might have been kind of a jerk and definitely an example of loving someone you don't necessarily like, he didn't deserve to be murdered like that because David wanted a place to stay and to get back at Rachel and I at the same time. It didn't even matter if he wouldn't have survived surgery like the doctor predicted. Murdering a dying man in cold blood is no worse than murdering a living man in cold blood. I've killed before and I'll do so again. A lot. I know by now that sometimes it's necessary. What David did to my cousin wasn't even remotely necessary and he certainly didn't regret what he hadn't needed to do.

Then there's Uncle George and Aunt Ellen and my cousins, not to mention Saddler's extended family and the friends who had heard of his 'recovery.' They thought that they were getting Saddler back but it was all a lie. David insisted that he was making them happy thinking their son wasn't dead but I've spent a lot of time wondering if it was actually worse to live with a lie than it was to not live with someone at all. And unlike the situation with Tom, Saddler actually _was_ dead. For some complete stranger who might not even stick around to masquerade as Saddler and to prevent anyone save Rachel and I from being able to mourn the real Saddler was just sick.

Tom was there at the hospital that day so at least one Controller (and probably more) had known about the supposed miracle. I'll admit that thinking that some kid from out of town must be morph-capable or was, for whatever reason, replaced my someone morph-capable wasn't the likeliest conclusion for a Yeerk to come to but it was still a security risk, especially with the constant demorphing and the fact that David was sleeping, as himself, in my house for days on end. If Tom had gone in there even once for whatever reason...

And now that David was gone and 'Saddler' vanished…well, technically that wasn't David's fault as for all I knew he'd been planning on living out his life with my relatives. Still, now he was gone and _I_ had no idea what had happened to the real Saddler's body so there was no way that anyone else did. If asked, I'm sure that David would be too busy telling me to go to hell to bother to give me a location. Who knew if Saddler was still even in one piece? Dismembering him would have made him a lot easier to hide, after all. And the worst part about Saddler not having a body to bury was that it meant that no one would ever be sure that he was really dead.

Sure, as more time passed it would become less and less likely for him to still be alive but they would always wonder and never, ever get any answers. Maybe one day when this war ends I'll be free to explain to them what had really happened but…would they be happier knowing? The truth is pretty horrifying and in a way it was my fault that it happened. My fault that they thought they had a second tragedy so close to the first. In a way, thinking they had had Saddler back for a few days and that things would really be alright was much crueler than if he'd just died on the way to surgery like he was expected to without David's intervention.

I'm not sure if it would be worse if they blamed me or if they didn't. I know I'm still not certain how much I blame myself for what happened.

But the war will have to be over before I really have to make a decision on that and, what's more, we'll have to have won it so I have time yet. Perhaps forever.

Review Please!


	15. I saw my son today

I saw my son today

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Security was heading straight for me. Leading them, storming fast and angrily, was a stone-faced human, tall and sturdily built. I felt I should know this person. There was something familiar... "Get him!" he roared. The guards moved as one. It couldn't be true. Yet it was ture. This wasn't another nightmare vision. This was real! The man who was ordering a security force to apprehend me was the man who'd played catch with me as a child, who'd taught me how to swim. The man who had changed my diapers. My friend. My role model. My father..._

_"Dad..." _

_His face showed no response as his eyes tracked, shifting his memory. "That's right. Once upon a time, you were my host's son. This is quite a coincidence in a city so big."_

-Animorphs #41. 

I saw my son today.

There was a time when that wouldn't have been worth mentioning, when the absence of this event would have been far more noteworthy. I think that the last time I had felt this was at all worth mentioning was when he was born and I was still so very much in awe of his existing at all.

Once upon a time, it was expected that once you had children you saw them every day until they moved out, whether for college or because they got a job. There were exceptions, of course. If your children went off to camp or to boarding school then there might be days, weeks, or even months that passed without you seeing them. Tom had gone off to basketball camp annually when he was younger and Jake had insisted on going as well when he was in elementary school and for a few years in middle school but Jean and I still heard from them on a weekly basis and we knew when they were coming home.

That was a long time ago, of course.

It's been nearly ten years since I discovered that humanity wasn't alone in the universe. I hadn't really given the subject much thought prior to this discovery but I hadn't really thought that aliens existed. I wish that I had been right about that, more than I've ever wanted anything.

I had a good life before all of this. I had a wife that I adored and two sons that made me prouder than I could really articulate. I had a job that paid well and that I loved and I lived in a good neighborhood. Things weren't perfect, of course, but what were things like sons growing distant, a nephew disappearing off the face of the Earth, or a brother's divorce compared to what was to come?

Ten years ago my son died. Jake. He was always a good kid, a little too solemn sometimes but always very responsible and trustworthy. He had always idolized his older brother which made what happened all the more tragic.

Jake discovered the Yeerks and he tried to fight them. He and his friends did far better than anyone ever could have expected a bunch of children to do and they managed to last two years but in the end the inevitable happened. Someone noticed what they were up to. Specifically, the Yeerk in Tom's head noticed.

I suppose that there is some comfort in knowing that Jake wasn't infested or tortured or anything like that. No, he was shot by a Dracon Beam at point-blank range while he lay sleeping. He never knew that it was his brother that killed him. I'm not sure how Tom has lived with the knowledge all this time. _I_ can barely live with it and I never even saw Jake's remains or played an active role in his death.

I just got home with Jean from a nice dinner we'd gone to to find our house swarming with Controllers. Jake was already dead at that point and Tom couldn't cover that up so we had to be taken. Jake's death was hardly intended to be a mercy. The Yeerk in Tom had been living with Jake for two years at that point and he had only just noticed the threat Jake posed. Killing Jake had been Tom's last-ditch attempt to save his own life and it had worked.

The Yeerk that had murdered one son and enslaved the others lived with the Yeerk in my head and the one in my wife's for just a week more before Santa Barbara had been completely conquered and the Yeerks were free to move on to the rest of California and, from there, the rest of the United States. Once America fell, so did the rest of the Americas and then the rest of the continents. It was almost obscene how quickly the Yeerks were able to progress from a hidden invasion struggling to take one city to an open invasion that enslaved the whole world.

What's even harder to believe is that Jake had managed to keep them contained in Santa Barbara for two years and then within three months of his death the human race had fallen. It's things like this that make me feel like I never really knew him and that I failed as a parent and the Yeerk in my head never lets me forget it. As Jake's father, I get a little hell for the frustration Jake gave them but not as much as I'm sure I'd get if he were still alive and opposing them. That's really not much of a consolation, I know. The worst part is that I'm not even really sure that I want my son to still be alive because if he were then he'd either be one of those EF fanatics or, more likely, just another enslaved soul. You know that things are about as bad as they can be if you can't even be sure that you'd want your loved ones to still be among the living.

I don't think about Jake a lot. It's far too painful. Usually if he crosses my mind at all it's because someone else – such as, say, my Yeerk taking his stress out on me – brought him up. Similarly, I try not to think about Jean and Tom. They're still out there somewhere…probably. They could die and I'd never even know just like they'd never know if I died. I doubt Jean has had any other children but for all I know I could be a grandfather right now and have a little girl or boy related to me in one of those horrific wamps. I'm…probably better off not knowing, to be honest.

Somehow I'd always pictured the prospect of having a grandchild as being a much happier occasion. Even if Jake or Tom had accidentally gotten a girl pregnant in high school or something it couldn't be anywhere near as bad as the veritable double-rape to create a new body to enslave that sex always ends up being nowadays. Another one of those things that I shouldn't _have_ to be grateful for and yet somehow am is that I've been celibate since my infestation. Just one more unnecessary trauma that I've been fortunate enough to avoid though, as a male, I could still be called upon to create a new host body any point until my death. That's hardly a happy thought but not thinking about it won't stop it from happening any more than acknowledging it will ensure that it will.

I used to think about my family more when all of this started. It was the only thing that gave me any comfort whatsoever and I couldn't stop wondering what Tom and Jean were going through, where they were, what _Jake_ had gone through before he'd died…eventually, though, it ceased to bring me any peace and just made my current situation that much harder to accept.

I don't remember quite when I accepted my life as a Controller. I don't think there was any one moment where I went from being in denial and trying to fight somehow to realize that it was all pointless and that it didn't matter if I accepted it or not because it wasn't going to change. It was more of a process, really, and it's not like anyone but the Yeerk in my head really seemed to notice. He gloated for a bit but wasn't too bad about it as he far preferred it when I stopped being difficult. Life was more bearable when I just accepted it, I found. It wasn't like anything had changed, I just stopped being so desperate for it to.

Ten years is a long time and people can get used to almost anything. Not many of us are happy about the Yeerks, I'd say, but we don't have to like them to understand that this is our reality now. Whenever I go to the Yeerk Pool I see depressed faces everywhere I look but there's no yelling or sobbing now like there was when I first got infested. At some point over the last decade, we'd all accepted it. Those kids in the wamps being created and raised to give a Yeerk a body will accept it even easier, I suppose. It should make their lives even easier than our for all it makes theirs more depressing. They won't even remember that their used to be a better way. I wonder sometimes if I would have been better off being one of them.

Earth is entirely the Yeerk Empire's now and even the EF is largely Yeerk. I now live in what used to be New York City. I'd been there once or twice before all of this started and I had liked it well enough despite the fact that they had far more extreme temperatures than I was used to. The city's changed quite a bit so I really might as well be living on another planet but that's really the least of the things that bother me about being a host. I (or rather the Yeerk inside of me but it's really all the same at this point) am the head of security in the Chrysler Building. It was really a pretty mundane job until earlier today.

I saw my son. It's been ten years since I've seen him and so I'm a little ashamed to admit that I didn't recognize him at first. I don't think I've changed that much physically since my infestation and so maybe that's why he recognized me first. He said 'dad' and slowly I – and the Yeerk – came to the realization that I was. My son had been late to work and spotted near the EF explosion, not to mention displaying what his co-workers described as unorthodox behavior.

The Yeerk had said that he _used_ to be my son which upset me but in a way I guess he was right. Biologically, nothing's changed but it's been ten years. I wasn't even sure that he was alive before seeing him here. I'm a little worried about what's he's involved with and whether he's really a part of the EF or just has a Yeerk that's acting erratically for whatever reason. The EF is usually better at covering their tracks than he was today.

It was Tom. It _had_ to have been Tom. When I was thinking back – with the Yeerk's oh-so-generous help – I had first thought that I was somehow looking at Jake all grown up but that's impossible. Jake's been dead for ten years. It can't be him. Tom and Jake always looked very similar and maybe Tom just grew to look even more like Jake since the last time I saw him. It's not like the report or any of the paperwork has the name of the host on it. I wouldn't have even realized that this man was my son without him opening his mouth and calling me 'dad' and so it's not like he looks exactly like either of my sons.

It had to be Tom. Maybe if I keep telling myself that I'll believe it. This doesn't make any sense. I know that Jake is dead. Why can't I convince myself that that couldn't possibly have been him?

It's made even more complicated by the fact that my son turned into a tiger when he was being arrested. Jake's friends Cassie had managed to destroy their morphing cube before she was taken and the Andalites had been able to keep that technology and the knowledge of how to create it out of Yeerk hands even if they hadn't been able to save their species.

Jake could morph and Tom couldn't. Just the same, I knew that Jake had died at sixteen while the man who had morphed was clearly in his mid-to-late twenties. This didn't make any sense at all. Even if the Empire had lied about Jake's death to hurt human morale, it wouldn't explain how he had gotten infested without anyone being told or why he would have been there and acting so suspiciously if he weren't a Controller.

This doesn't make any sense but it's not my problem anymore. Before today I had no idea what had happened to my family, today I learned that a son was alive, and now I'm back to being in the dark. Visser Two's dealing with this personally now and chances are I'll never even hear how it turned out.

Review Please!


	16. Captured

Captured

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_{Cassie?} Marco. {If it comes to it, get James.}_

_When we were in the hallway, Tom closed the door behind us. Then he turned and struck Jake savagely across the face. "My host's own brother!" Jake reeled and a Hork-Bajir caught him. Propped him up. Tom struck him again. "Do you have any idea what youv'e done to me? All that time we were searching for **you**. Looking for Andalites. And it was you! Right there in my own house. Right down the hall. I could have killed you a million times! Visser One almost starved me ot death for my stupidity."...This was worse than it had ever been. Still Jake said nothing. His face was unreadable. "Take them down to the garage off the loading dock...And inform Visser ONe that we have the rebels. And the cube." Tom turned back to Jake. "My host's parents," he said coldly, "were given as hosts to relatively low-ranking Controllers. This is so we can kill them without regret if we have to. So if any of you even thinks about making trouble..." _

-Animorphs #50.

I've got to say, being captured is really doing nothing to reassure me of my leadership abilities. It could be worse, I suppose. The Yeerks could have decided to do the smart thing and try to kill or infest us immediately instead of waiting for Visser One to show up, for instance. I guess his paranoia about us and his need to be personally involved with anything interesting that's going on is good for something. Cassie could be here with us and not off bringing back reinforcements – I still can't believe we have _reinforcements_ – in the form of the seventeen newly-minted Auxiliary Animorphs. Still, if she doesn't hurry and beat the Visser here then she might arrive too late to save us.

I'm not about to start asking (and I suspect that everyone except for my Aunt Naomi would deny it if I did) but I know that this is, if not _entirely_ my fault, then at least mostly. We should have paid more attention to the security. James' place clearly doesn't have anybody watching it that closely or they would have seen us come in and seen our morphs. This place apparently is monitored at night by someone who happens to be a Controller and alerted the others. Once again, Cassie's instincts save the day. I don't know how she does it, really. Even when she's doing things that no sane person would ever consider to be anything less than suicide – like when she spared Aftran and became a _nothlit_ – she always ends up right. I should just start accepting that she's going to be right when she does something unexplainable but little things like self-preservation and sanity keep getting in my way.

It's all up to Cassie now, Cassie and James' people. This is their first real mission and it's a big one. This isn't just some raid where all that counts is that they get out of there alive; this is a rescue operation and failure dooms the entire planet. I really do hope that they're ready for it even as I very much doubt that they are. How could they possibly be? I know none of us were prepared for our first tangle with the Yeerks. We got better, though, and if we all live through tonight (and remain uninfested, but that really goes without saying) then they'll have a chance to get better as well. One thing that worries me is that I would _really_ not want to leave such a do-or-die situation up to the kids that we were when we first started this war. I mean, the first really important thing we did was stopping the former governor's infestation and we couldn't even manage that with me tripping and falling into a Yeerk Pool. Okay, so I may have gotten hit by a ricocheting bullet first but still. That was hardly our finest moment.

There are ten Blue Band Hork-Bajir keeping a very close eye on us. If we were all in morph then we might be able to take them but the fact of the matter is that Rachel and I are human and Cassie isn't here. There's no way we'd be able to complete a morph before they realized what we were doing and killed us. If Cassie doesn't make it in time we may have to do something like that anyway to stop ourselves from getting infested but Visser One's not here yet so we still have a little time. How much time, I don't know but some. As bad as us dying would be, getting infested would be even worse. And not just for us, either, but for everyone else's families back in the Hork-Bajir Valley and for the entire world. The Yeerks only have one morph-capable Yeerk right now and he is _more_ than enough. If the Yeerks managed to infest us…and they have the cube, as well…When Cassie returns hopefully we can reclaim it but until then, we're stuck.

I am not accustomed to feeling helpless and I don't like it. I haven't been really helpless in a long time, not since fleeing the aftermath of Elfangor's murder. I may have felt helpless at many, many other points (whenever I looked at my brother, the week after Grandpa G died, and, more recently, fleeing my own home while my infested family tried to kill me) but I wasn't, really. Not completely. Not like this.

It would be easier if I were in morph. Preferably, tiger morph but any morph would do. Then I wouldn't have to concentrate so hard on making sure that I appeared absolutely impassive so that I wouldn't discourage my friends or give the Yeerks any satisfaction. If I were in morph then this could all feel so much less personal. The Yeerks might not even know if I was the bird, the gorilla, the tiger, or even there at all.

As it is, I am a human with my very human Yeerk-infested brother standing only a few feet from me with undisguised hostility on his face. I'm trying not to let this bother me because I really do have bigger problems right now and thinking about this is only making it harder to remain outwardly calm. I know it's a Yeerk, anyway, and not really my brother. God, do I know that better than anybody. Of course the Yeerk would be angry. I'm the biggest thorn in the side of the Yeerk Empire – and more than thorn in future alternate-reality Cassie can be believed – around, after all. And quite a bit more than that to the Yeerk. I'm his host's little brother who he spent three years living with and barely deigning to pay any attention to. I'm the security breach that might have eventually been found due to his blood but not because he came to any conclusions despite months of suspicions.

I'm the reason that he was apparently almost starved to death. If…_when_ Cassie returns with James' people and we escape, I wonder what Visser One will do to him then. If he still has the morphing cube he might be okay but there's no way we can leave that in Yeerk hands. Since he has it _now_, though…is he morph capable? That might also spare him or at least my brother. If Visser One does kill the Yeerk in Tom's head then would Tom survive? He'd be reinfested, of course, but alive.

Tobias insists that Visser One will keep him and my parents alive just to mess with me but I'm not sure. What Tobias said makes sense but Visser One's never been known for his foresight or restraint. For all that Tom arriving with those Hork-Bajir was a disaster, a part of me was relieved to see that my brother was still alive. I hadn't been sure until then and after I leave I won't be sure again until the next time we meet. Just the same, I don't know if my parents are still alive. Yeah, Tom said that they had been infested by low-level grunts so they _could_ be killed thus implying that they weren't but it's not like I actually trust him so who knows? The more…optimistic, maybe, part of me thinks that my parents can't possibly be dead as Tom and Visser One haven't tried to use that against me and they'd have to know how much that would get to me. Then again, they could just enjoy keeping me in suspense. I might actually prefer being kept in suspense to getting confirmation of their deaths.

There's something else that's bothering me as well. I know that in all likelihood I'm just reading too much into this but I've made a career of reading a lot into all the small things my brother says or does, looking for some slip-up of the Yeerk's or sign that my brother was still there. There was something very curious about what the Yeerks said as he attacked me.

It looked like my brother because it _was_ his body hitting me but even if I wasn't well-aware of the Yeerk inside his head, it was just so far out of character for Tom that I wouldn't have believed it was him anyway. It bothered me a little anyway but not very much. More pressing concerns and whatnot. Although I do wonder what Tom made of the attack. Is he blaming himself for the Yeerk in his head using him to hurt me? Thinking that I blame him? The worst part is that through all of this, I have no way of telling how he's taking it. The last time I knew that I saw the real him was when his former Yeerk showed it to me but I thought that I caught a glimpse of it that night he almost drowned and I almost didn't save him. Well, didn't save his life at least. As I had told my father, I certainly didn't save him. And that brings me back to what the Yeerk said.

The Yeerks said, "My host's own brother!" He may have been planning out what he would say if he ever saw me again or just spontaneously letting loose but either way that was some very odd phrasing. If he were upset about me being an 'Andalite Bandit' – though I guess the Yeerks will find a new name for us now – because of what that had cost him then why not say 'my own host's brother'? Why was it 'my host's own brother'? That really makes it sound like he's speaking vicariously. Like it's translated from 'my own brother'. Now, I highly doubt that the Yeerk has ever actually viewed me as a brother so it probably wasn't that. What was it then? Is it that Tom's angry with me over this revelation?

I may never know but I can see why he would be. In his place, I definitely would be. He may not know that he was one of the very first Controllers we identified (the second after that cop, I think) but I would have had to have found out about him quite a while ago. I mean, he was right there our first trip to the Yeerk Pool where he saved me by distracting the Visser, after all. I knew for a long time and yet it's still come to this.

I knew and yet I didn't do anything. In my defense, it really wasn't feasible to free him at first. He couldn't have just gone back to his life since the Yeerks knew who he was and we didn't have anywhere to keep him. After the Hork-Bajir got their very own secret garden that excuse became a lot less viable, particularly once we spent some time with them and rescued Bek. And the fact that him just suddenly disappearing as well as us being gone to watch him until the Yeerk died would cause problems was a lot less of a concern once we met Erek and especially so once he volunteered to start covering for us. Any way that you look at it, there's been a good year and a half since I could have saved him and been able to hide it indefinitely and keep him safe.

The question of why didn't I…I'm not even sure. I was afraid, I guess. I didn't want to risk tipping off the Yeerks and I knew that if I messed that up it would be game over. It doesn't seem like nearly enough of a reason to just leave him there but…what's done is done. I really can't afford to start beating myself up over that as well. Priorities and whatnot. Should I survive this war I'll have all the time in the world to angst if I so choose although I'm really hoping that I'll have slightly more cheery things to do.

The fact remains that if I had gotten Tom out of there before then rescuing my parents wouldn't have been any more difficult than rescuing Cassie's parents or Rachel's mother and sisters. It definitely would have been easier than rescuing Marco's or Tobias'. That's what gets me. We'd never even met Loren and her house had been staked out by Yeerks looking for us to come in and try to evacuate her while Marco's father had been seconds away from infestation and his mother had to be saved from an execution presided over by Visser One himself and they _still_ succeeded while I failed to get my parents out.

And why was that? Because I had decided to wait.

Yes, I had messed up big time that day and I knew that. I knew that we had just confirmed that we were human even before the unexpected Loren match popped up. I also knew that if the Yeerks knew we were human then they'd start taking us far less seriously than they had been. I really don't recall the Yeerks spending much time talking about infesting us when we were supposed to be Andalites and yet that granny Controller had almost waxed poetic about how much she'd love to control one of us. At least she was willing to take 'no' for an answer and went back to trying to kill us.

Just the same, while my first instinct was to take some time to think because of how big and game-changing our next move was and so I'd make sure not to make another error, that was the worst thing I could have done. The Yeerks knew at least one of us was a human and, having received confirmation that their efforts were not in vain, they had really stepped up the search process. My family was on borrowed time and I couldn't afford to wait. I knew that but I didn't think that a few hours would be that disastrous.

I was wrong.

Now they're enslaved if they're not already dead. I may never see them again and they may never forgive me. What happened with them was an accident but it's still far too big to brush off with a simple 'sorry.' I don't think Tom will ever forgive me. I don't think he should, either. Three years. Even if he were freed tomorrow, how could I ever make up for that? Things like security and the importance of our cover might make it understandable from a logical perspective but that doesn't mean the people my decision hurt are suddenly going to be okay with it nor should they.

I messed up again. That's all I seem to be capable of these days.

Cassie said that I'm the only one who can do this and the sad part is that I believe her. It's not like I think that I'm this genius leader or anything but I'm the one with the experience and apparently the reputation if Eva's to be believed. I got us into this mess and it's my responsibility to get us out. Somehow. You know things are bad when you have to count on my stellar foresight and leadership to see us through.

Cassie had better hurry or it'll be too late. One thing I can say for sure is that my leadership, no matter how many catastrophic mistakes I make, will always be better than what the Yeerks have in store for us.

Review Please!


	17. I thought you'd gone nuts

I thought you'd gone nuts

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_My dad nodded. "It's just a change from the last two nights. You've been eating like you were trying to eat everything in the house."_

_"I was?"_

_Tom cocked an eyebrow at me. "What, now you're goint to pretend it didn't happen? Last night you sat here and ate six pieces of chicken and kept yapping about how great it was. Then you ate a pie. A pie that was supposed to be for the four of us."..."You were a total pig," Tom said. "Chicken. Corn. Potatoes. Or, as you kept saying, 'Potatoes. Toes. Tay-toes.' I thought you'd gone nuts." _

-Animorphs #6.

On Friday night, I got a new Yeerk. While I had known for awhile that – barring some miracle where the Andalite Bandits won – I would be enslaved until I died, having my first Yeerk move on and getting a new one just further drove home how inescapable my situation was. As if I really needed any reminding.

It's only been three days so far so while this Yeerk knows everything about me, I don't know very much about him. One difference I've managed to pick up on is in regards to Jake. While the first Yeerk had long-since had me worrying for my little brother's safety and his freedom, this new Yeerk seems far less interested in him. He hasn't brought up infesting him or getting him to join the Sharing (which is the same thing, really, but one of those is said to those in the know and the other to potential hosts) once yet. Conversely, my first Yeerk steadfastly refused to give up his dream of getting my parents infested by getting them to join the Sharing as a 'family thing' once Jake was a Controller so he wouldn't have to keep up the pretence of being me at home. That's right: my family was at constant risk of being destroyed because the Yeerk didn't want to be inconvenienced.

Jake's never been in as much danger of getting infested or outright killed as he was after Elfangor died and those still-anonymous kids might have seen something but thankfully that quickly blew over when they never came forward and the Andalite Bandits appeared on the scene. Just the same, even if this new Yeerk continues his approach of not actively working towards Jake's infestation, I know that in all probability should he end up infested one day it will probably have something to do with me and the Yeerk in my head.

If there's one thing that's worse than being a Controller for so long and not having anyone notice that anything's wrong (and having to be perversely grateful for that as noticing would only get them infested as well), it's knowing that everyone I know and love is now in danger from me and exactly what it would mean if they were taken. My life now is something I'm eagerly awaiting the conclusion of and I wouldn't wish that on _anybody_, much less the people that really matter to me. I'm not sure how long my family can remain innocently happy and oblivious but I'm not looking forward to the day they see too much or take 'me' up on 'my' invitation to join the Sharing.

The reason that I've so quickly realized how much less interested in Jake this new Yeerk is than the previous one is because of how very odd Jake's been acting.

Friday night I was a bit preoccupied with having a new Yeerk but from what I remember he seemed fine. Saturday morning, same thing. He slept over at Marco's that night and when he came home last night he was…weird. Eating everything in sight and developing a sudden fondness for playing with his words. I can tell that my mom and dad are getting concerned and, honestly, so am I. There was no school today (got to love those teacher institute days) but Jake was still gone all day and doesn't seem to have gone back to normal while he was out.

What is going on with him? I know he's not a Controller – and if he were, he'd be acting a lot less suspicious – but he's acting like he's completely lost it.

"I hope you boys are in the mood for chicken, corn, and potatoes," my mom said, determinedly pretending that she wasn't growing increasingly concerned about Jake's strange new habits.

"I am very much in the mood for that," Jake said with a nod. "Mood. Ood-duh."

"Well, good," my mom said hesitantly.

{You really don't find this even a bit…worrying?} I asked.

{Should I?} the Yeerk responded. {Whatever human problem your brother has is of no concern to me, particularly as long as your parents are taking the 'maybe it will go away on its own' approach.}

I suppose it really wasn't a surprise that the Yeerk didn't actually care. The first Yeerk wouldn't have really cared either but he would have paid more attention at least.

{And besides, what exactly do you expect me to do?} the Yeerk continued. {Infest him? Your memories show that that's a course of action you're opposed to and the mental instabilities Jake's displaying combined with his still-growing body would hardly make him an ideal host.}

I had never really thought about that but I suppose it made sense. If someone heard voices that wasn't there or had OCD or something then the Yeerk in their head must be in for quite a trying experience attempting to ignore the delusions or compulsions. And in the case of patients not firmly attached to reality, they might have difficulty interpreting what was actually real and what was part of their host's illness even if they themselves were perfectly mentally healthy.

I'm not sure what's wrong with Jake but the fact that a Yeerk thinks it wouldn't be worth someone getting a body because they'd have to put up with it is a bit worrying. Still, I'm always of the belief that a lack of infestation is a good thing.

We studied Hamlet in school awhile back and I remember hearing something about how Hamlet was safe from outright execution in Denmark because they had a superstition about killing the insane back then. That might have been why Hamlet was acting crazy – however much he was _acting_ – in the first place. It's occurring to me now that acting crazy might actually save you from infestation now but the Yeerks would have no problems killing you if need be (only if need be, fortunately, as they don't want people asking questions about all the disappearances and they have a hard enough time explaining all the Visser-related limb loss) no matter how insane they think you are. Still, if you had to pick one…

"So what did you kids do today?" my dad asked.

The Yeerk swallowed before answering. "I hung out at the Sharing. We're planning a highway cleanup."

"The Sharing does a lot of good for the community, doesn't it?" my dad asked. "I'm really proud of you, Tom."

I tried not to let the fact that my dad was proud of a Yeerk's cover while he worked to enslave more people bother me. It's not like he knew, after all, and had the Sharing been what he thought it had been then he'd be perfectly right to be proud.

The Yeerk smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"I really should think about going," my dad said absently. "It's such a good cause and it could be a nice father-son thing. If only I could find the time…"

My dad occasionally made statements like that. For all that I knew that he never acted on them, I couldn't help but be alarmed whenever he did. Maybe one day he actually would clear his schedule and join up and then he'd be as trapped as I was. Normally, Jake would pipe up about now and say something about how being a doctor and helping people did more good than cleaning up a few pieces of litter but he seemed too engrossed in his food.

"What about you, Jake?" my mom asked.

Jake looked up. "I'm sorry, could you repeat the question? I was too busy eating these excellent potatoes. Toes. Tay-toes."

My mom gave him an odd look. "I'm glad you like them."

"I wanted to know what you did today since you had no school," my dad repeated.

"I went to Cassie's barn and helped with the animals," Jake replied.

The Yeerk smirked. "Oh, young love. Isn't that cute?"

Jake just blinked. "May I have some more chicken? Kun. Chick-kun."

My dad passed him another piece of chicken as my mom frowned.

"How many have you had, Jake?" she asked.

Jake paused. "Including this one?"

"Yes," my mom confirmed.

"Then it would be six," Jake informed her.

The Yeerk whistled. "Someone's hungry."

Jake looked confused. "Why else would I be eating? Ting. Ing."

"I know you like chicken, Jake, but you don't normally eat _six_ pieces of it," my dad pointed out. "We had chicken only last week and you ate maybe half that much."

"This chicken is delicious," Jake professed. "Cious. Dee-lish-cious."

"Well, your mother cooked," my dad said, nodding his head towards the chef.

"I've heard it said that lots of foods taste like chicken and if that's true then they must be delectable," Jake declared. "Food. Ood-duh. This might be the best food I have ever tasted! I like it better than the corn or potatoes. Toes. Tay-toes."

"I…I'm glad to see that you like my cooking so much," my mother said hesitantly.

{You know, all of that sound repetition is getting annoying _really_ quickly,} the Yeerk complained. {Why is he doing that and does he really not notice how much everyone's staring at him?}

{I guess not,} I replied.

"Is there any more?" Jake asked eagerly after he had finished everything on his plate.

My dad shook his head. "There aren't even any leftovers for once. We've managed to polish off everything."

And by 'we', of course, he meant Jake.

Jake looked disappointed.

"There's still the pie," my mom pointed out.

"Ooh, what kind?" the Yeerk asked.

"Cherry," my mom answered. "Even though we're still eating, you can get a piece if you'd like. It's right over there." My mom pointed towards the pie.

Jake nodded. "I will absolutely do this. Thank you." He stood and walked over to where my mom had pointed.

"So what did you two do today?" the Yeerk asked.

My dad made a face. "Well, unlike _certain people I could mention_, it was a regular work day for me…"

Maybe ten minutes later, we were done eating and mom called for Jake to bring the pie the over to the table which he really should have done the minute he cut out a piece.

Unfortunately, when Jake came to the table he had the cherry filling smeared all over his face and was carrying an empty pie tin.

"Jake!" the Yeerk cried out. "What the hell?"

My mom shot me a look. "Language, Tom."

"He just ate an entire freaking pie!" the Yeerk complained. "And you're worried about my language?"

"Two wrongs doesn't make a right," my mom said firmly. "And we raised you better than that."

"Did I do something wrong?" Jake wondered aloud.

My father cleared his throat. "Yes, actually. That pie was for the four of us and you seem to have eaten all of it."

Jake looked down. "So I did. I didn't mean to."

"How could you not have meant to eat an entire pie?" the Yeerk demanded. "And in only ten minutes, too!"

This isn't the first time Jake's eaten an entire pie. Last time, though, was years ago and it took him an entire hour. Jake's not usually that stupid but Marco had dared him to and you know how little kids get. He'd thrown up not long after but Jake currently didn't show any signs of being sick. Still, you never knew.

Jake shrugged. "I just…it was really good so I was eating it and before I knew it, it was gone. Nuh."

My dad sighed. "Well, there goes that. And I was really looking forward to it, too."

"We still have Oreos," my mom reminded him.

"That's not quite in the same league as _pie_ but I guess it's better than nothing," my dad decided. "Can you get the Oreos out, Tom? I'd ask Jake since he's up but I'm not sure I'd trust the cookies to make it to the table."

"Oreos?" Jake repeated innocently.

"Don't even think about it," my dad told him. "After all that pie you probably don't need any more dessert all week."

"I'm sorry about the pie," Jake said belatedly. "May I be excused? I have homework."

"Go ahead," my mom told him.

Jake quickly made his way upstairs.

My parents exchanged one of those worried parent looks the minute he was out of sight.

My mom shook her head. "I just don't know what's wrong with that boy…"

Review Please!


	18. Like a Real Family Outing

Like A Real Family Outing

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_"I'm just so tired of lying to everybody," Jake said wearily. "This morning at breakfsat we're all sitting around looking at sale ads in the paper. My mom and dad wanted to go look at a new lawn mower. Tom even said he'd go along. They wanted me to go, like a real family outing. But I made up a story about having to help Cassie's dad here at the farm." _

_"It wasn't exactly a lie." Cassie. _

_"It wasn't the truth, either." Jake shook his head. "My mom doesn't understand why I never have time for them anymore. At least if we do this, if we get them out, that part will be over. Lying. Sneaking aorund. Hurting their feelings." _

-Animorphs #49.

Today is the day that everything changes.

I don't normally consider myself a melodramatic kind of guy but there it is. We haven't officially put it to a vote yet but I know what the outcome will be. Today is the day that we're going to tell our parents (and siblings in the case of Rachel and I) that the Earth is under attack and that we're the only hope the human race has. Although we'll probably want to put it in less depressing terms. Our families will have plenty of time to ruminate on the staggering odds against us later, there's no need for them to be fully aware of that before we even get them to relative safety with the Hork-Bajir.

This isn't the first time that everything's changed though they've all somehow seemed to revolve around the Yeerks. It seems that the longer this goes on, the more starts to revolve around them.

The first time everything changed was when we met Elfangor and learned about the Yeerks. I think Tobias becoming a _nothlit_ happened too soon after to not be considered part of that same life-changing experience. It happened during our first Yeerk mission, after all. We barely even accomplished anything (the end count was one freed woman we have no idea what happened to and an announcement to the Yeerks that we existed) and yet that hasn't even managed to retain its spot as our most disastrous or even pointless mission ever. It's hard to be certain what's been our biggest disaster - maybe David - but I doubt we'll ever find anything more pointless than the slaughterhouse mission. Honestly, I can respect a healthy desire to lie to Visser One. I just prefer that it doesn't lead to us wasting our time trying to stop something the Yeerks can't even pull off.

The next time things changed was when we found Ax. And then Marco and I realized his mother was Visser One. We met the Chee. Tobias could morph again and there were free Hork-Bajir for the first time in far too many years. We took possession of the morphing cube. Marco exposed himself to his father, faked his and his father's deaths, and freed his mother right under Visser One's nose. The Yeerks discovered the Hork-Bajir valley and they had to move. The Yeerks broke into the Gardens because they believe we're human and yesterday we inadvertently confirmed it.

That was a mistake. We should have been more cautious and had a better plan. Just the same, if we hadn't gone in then Tobias still would have been identified through the mother he never mentioned and we'd be none the wiser so there's that. Tobias wouldn't have been in any real danger, true, but finding one human match would only encourage them to step up their efforts to find any others. More specifically, to find Rachel, Cassie, and I.

Still, I wasn't about to make that particular mistake again. I was up half the night trying to plan out exactly how I was going to tell my parents about the Yeerks and, more to the point, about Tom. They'd freak, I know. Tom might be hurt that it had taken me this long to free him but at least he already knew most of the facts. How I was going to explain that Tom would need to be tied up for a maximum of three days until the Yeerk was dead, I still wasn't sure of. They couldn't be allowed near him lest they buy the Yeerk's inevitable lies about really being their son and try to free him. As well-meaning as they might be, that would just end up causing us problems which really wouldn't go over well. I'd probably end up just telling them that if three days passed and nothing happened then I'd admit I was mistaken and the worst thing that Tom would go through was a little discomfort from being tied up and some major boredom. If that wasn't enough to convince them, well…it's not like I really _needed _their permission and the Hork-Bajir could keep them away.

That wouldn't be the most auspicious start but I'd have to trust that they'd understand eventually, particularly after Tom himself assured them that I had done the right thing. Well, in tying him up so the Yeerk would die, at least.

It was only seven in the morning but since we were all up we decided to have a family breakfast now. It was just as well since I was supposed to meet the others for our last meeting at Cassie's barn at eight and I wanted to savor these last moments of normality (or as normal as things could be since Tom was a Controller and no matter how many years passed, that was _never_ going to be normal) before they were gone forever.

My dad had cooked for once and made pancakes while Tom had offered 'advice' the entire time. My mom had just poured the juice and joked about how dad's style of cooking was a lot harder than it looked. I was quiet, I think, but I guess I was a little afraid that if I started talking I'd ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. I'm not too good at levity anymore. I wonder how the Yeerk manages it. In the beginning I'm sure he could just rely on what Tom would have said or done but by now I can't imagine that Tom's any better with lightheartedness than I am.

"This is nice," my dad said as we began to eat. "I think that we should do family things like this more often."

Tom made a big show of examining his pancakes and juice. "Okay, where'd you guys put the liqueur? Nothing else makes you guys mushy so fast."

My dad laughed. "No liqueur, Tom, honest. Not unless your mother spiked the juice."

"I'll never tell," my mom said slyly.

Tom paused for a moment and then slowly pushed his glass away from him. "So, dad, what were you thinking of? Jake and I trying to make it to dinner more often?"

"Well, that would certainly be nice," my dad agreed. "I was thinking of some a little more concrete than 'try to' and a little more immediate as well. How about we all do something together today?"

I decided that I'd wait to see what they were talking about before turning them down. If they wanted to do something tonight then it wouldn't change my plans so I could agree to it even though it would never happen and if it were something earlier then I could work around it or maybe convince them to push it back.

"Like what?" my mom asked. "Go to a movie?"

"I'm up for that," Tom remarked.

My mom shot Tom an amused look. "Really? No teenage angst about having to be seen in public with your parents?"

"My desire not to be seen in public with my parents is outweighed by my desire to have you guys pay for my ticket and concessions," Tom deadpanned.

"I'm really feeling the love here," my dad said, shaking his head. "But nothing's really out."

"True," my mom conceded. "We could always go shopping. Didn't you say that you wanted to get a new lawnmower?"

My dad nodded. "Yes, after that one time I ran over city water valve pipe last week that never happened, we do need a new lawnmower."

"Even though it never happened?" I managed to contribute.

"_Especially_ since it never happened," my dad confirmed.

"What kind of damage did the lawn mower not take?" Tom asked curiously.

"It definitely didn't have its blade bent or a damaged crankshaft," my dad replied. "But despite that, we really should look into getting a replacement. Lawnmowers just aren't built to last anymore."

"So I guess that's a plan," my mom declared. "Tom? Jake?"

"Well, I'm game," Tom said agreeably.

First the movies and now this. While the fact that there were a lot more than six Yeerks on Earth meant that Tom had more leeway than I did if he needed to be at home or school or something, the last few weeks he'd been gone almost as much as I had been. In fact, I couldn't even pinpoint the last time he had stayed in all night and he'd been saying things that my admittedly over-paranoid mind interpreted as a break in character. Maybe he was just trying to get my parents to stop being so concerned – and consequentially attentive – by spending a token day with them.

Unlike Cassie and maybe even Rachel, I only had so much time before Tom showed up as a match in the blood bank. Still, they had only even got confirmation that _one_ of us was human a few hours ago so it wasn't inconceivable that they hadn't found Tom yet and I couldn't imagine that if they had we'd all be sitting down to a nice breakfast like that. And Tom definitely wouldn't be running meaningless outings with my parents. No, if they knew there would be Dracon Beams and Hork-Bajir (and probably Visser One, too, since he insists on being a part of everything), not pancakes and newspaper ads. That's how it played out when they knew that David had the morphing cube but not any idea of what it was or how it worked so why would it be any less for an 'Andalite Bandit'?

Everyone was looking at me now.

I hated to disappoint them, I really did. I wasn't very good at pretending to be normal anymore but that didn't mean that those times when I got to pretend to be just a regular kid were any less important to me. Between Tom being a Controller and me being an Animorph, I couldn't even remember the last time we had had a family outing like this with all four of us. Had today been another day, I would have gone with them.

I winced. "I'd like to, I really would."

"I sense a 'but'," my dad predicted, frowning.

I nodded. "I'm sorry, I really am. It's just…I promised Cassie that I'd help her dad out at the farm."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Tom muttered. "'Helping her dad'?"

"I know that your girlfriend is very important to you, Jake, but you spend most of your time with her and we haven't had a family outing in ages," my mom said, sounding disappointed.

I had never actually told my family that Cassie was my girlfriend but somehow they just knew. Was I really that obvious? Then again, since Cassie was the only girl I even mentioned spending time with who didn't also happen to be my cousin and I use hanging out with her as an excuse when I need to go do Animorph activities, that could be where they got the impression.

"I'm not planning on hanging out with Cassie, Mom," I protested. "I mean, she might be there – she probably will be, it's her house – but her dad really does need my help with something and since it's Sunday if I don't do it today I won't have time until next weekend and he needs it done before that."

My mom sighed. "Well, if it's that important and you made a commitment then of course you have to go. It's just…" She trailed off.

"Just what?" I asked, not sure that I really wanted to know.

"You never have time for us anymore," my mom said simply.

I tried not to let my hurt show on my face. "That's not true!"

"You missed dinner twice last week," my dad informed me. "And while it's better than going without food, it can't possibly be healthy to have an Egg McMuffin so many mornings when you're not at breakfast."

"Even_ I've _noticed that you're never here," Tom chimed in. "And I'm pretty busy myself."

"You never have time for us anymore," my mom repeated.

I bit my lip guiltily. "Am I really gone that often?"

"Yes," Tom replied promptly.

Just what I needed, to be lectured about spending time with my family from a Yeerk already proven to be perfectly willing to kill us all at the slightest provocation. I would enjoy watching him die, I think, even if the agony he went through as he starved would be played out on Tom's face. They say a Kandrona starvation is a terrible ordeal for a host and to some extent I can understand that. Just the same, I think this will be good for Tom. At any rate, it can't possibly be _bad_ for him.

"I really can't put this off but…I'll make it up to you guys, I promise," I said earnestly. Once we were refugees living with the Hork-Bajir we'd have more time together than we knew what to do with. That thought didn't make the disappointment on my parents' faces any easier to look at but the lying would soon be over.

I wondered if my parents would still be disappointed in me, but for different reasons. Disappointed because I could kill so casually now, because I used people with nary a second thought, because I'd been lying to them for years. Could they ever trust me again? And how would they react to finding out I'd let the Yeerks keep Tom for so long? They'd probably blame themselves at first for never noticing anything but in the end…they simply hadn't known and I had.

Well, I'd find out soon enough, I guess.

There was an awkward silence.

"So," my dad said, finally breaking it. "Why don't you tell us more about that blood drive, Tom?"

Tom held up a finger as he finished chewing. "It's going really well. There's a lot of people who, like you, don't have the time to commit to actually joining the Sharing or who've been thinking about it but haven't gotten around to going. In fact, even people who really don't care one way or the other about it are still willing to give blood. It only takes a few minutes, after all, and it can really make a difference. I gave blood on the first day."

No surprise, there. They wouldn't expect my parents or I to turn up as a match since we lived together and it would take a special kind of Yeerk to fail to notice after three years but more distant relatives could still give them a better idea of who they were looking for.

"I think I can squeeze in the time to give a little blood," my dad decided. "What do you think, Jean? Should we stop by the blood drive after we get our new lawnmower?"

My eyes widened a little in alarm. I couldn't just let my parents walk straight into Yeerk hands.

Shockingly, Tom came to the resuce. "If today's anything like yesterday then it'll be swamped. You'd be better off going on a weekday. We can go tomorrow after school if you'd like."

My mom nodded. "Tomorrow it is, then."

That tomorrow would never come, of course. My family would go off and buy their lawn mower and then come back and I'd tell them everything.

Just a few more hours and then they'll be no going back. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or terrified.

Review Please!


	19. This Can't Be Happening

This Can't Be Happening

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

This can't be happening.

{Oh, but it is, human.}

I am not hearing that. I am absolutely not hearing that.

{Technically, you're correct,} the voice said. {You're not literally _hearing_ me with your ears because I'm in your mind.}

That clarification, strangely, was of no comfort.

{What can I say? I've never been one to sacrifice truth for the sake of comforting a host. Or really expending any effort at all to do so, come to think of it.}

I may not be very clear on what happened but what I _think_ I know can't possibly be real.

{Why do you doubt your senses?} the voice inquired. {And why does that line seem familiar? Oh, I see…}

It's not like I think that it was anything I ate that's doing this – unlike certain fictional characters of generations past – but I _have_ to doubt my senses. This whole thing is just impossible.

{If you absolutely _must_ believe that I am some splintered off part of your own personality that is in complete control and mysteriously leaves every three days while you're locked in a cage then feel free,} the voice said indulgently. {Such delusions aren't good for you but you won't be able to keep them up for long.}

So that would be a delusion and yet believing that not only were aliens real but they were secretly invading the planet and subtly enslaving the population – including me now – wasn't?

{Yes, I'd say that sums it up quite nicely.}

It was like something out of a conspiracy theory.

{Then it's a good thing that you like conspiracy theories, isn't it?}

Not when I'm the one involved in them.

{You can talk directly _to_ me you know, human. Just because I see your every thought before its finished forming doesn't mean it's not still rude to ignore me.}

If I was thinking at…it…then I was hardly ignoring it, was I?

{See, that's what I'm talking about with the rudeness. I may not have a gender the way you humans do but I _do_ have a name and I did tell you what it was.}

I really had other concerns at the time.

There was a loud mental sigh. Well, metaphorically loud at least. {Temrash. My name is Temrash.}

Since it could apparently read my mind, it should be able to tell what _my_ name was as well and yet it kept calling me 'human.'

{I'm well aware that your name is Tom, human, seeing as how I've been passing for you for almost three hours now. Since it's just the two of us in here, however, there's really no need to address you by that. Or to address you as 'human' for that matter but I happen to like doing it.}

If you're not going to call me Tom then why should I call you Temrash?

{If you want to think of me as 'the Yeerk' then that's fine by me. It's better than 'it' at any rate and I'm certainly not calling you that. Still, I'd prefer if you would actually speak to me instead of…} The voice trailed off. The Yeerk.

What?

{So, you don't know _how_ to reply back to me? It's really not hard. I've seen Hork-Bajir accomplish it. And Gedd, too, for that matter. The average Hork-Bajir is about as smart as…a human toddler, I'd say. And the Gedd are barely sentient. If they can manage it, you can manage it.}

I wasn't quite sure how to take the unexpected vote of confidence. I did note that the Yeerk didn't actually tell me how I was supposed to do this.

{I never had to explain it to anybody else,} the Yeerk groused. {Just direct your thoughts specifically at me.}

Feeling a little foolish – even more so because it could feel my awkwardness – I attempted to do as I had been instructed. {Like this?}

{Exactly,} the Yeerk sounded mildly pleased.

{Why is it important I know how to do this if you'll see whatever I think anyway?} I wondered.

{Because this way it can seem more like an actual conversation than if I just respond to anything interesting you think,} the Yeerk explained.

{But…you were already doing that,} I pointed out.

{True,} the Yeerk agreed. {But while I can ignore your regular thoughts to a degree, there's no way to ignore what you direct at me. If I'm ignoring you, thinking at me will really be the only way to get my attention. This is for your benefit, really.}

{Didn't you _just say_ that it was rude for me to 'ignore' you by not thinking directly at you when I was trying to talk to you?} I demanded. {How is you actively ignoring me any different?}

{I'd still be able to 'hear' what you direct at me even if I may choose not to respond,} the Yeerk replied. {And honestly, human, make up your mind! Practically having two brains is no excuse.}

I wasn't quite sure I understood.

{First you freak out because I can read your every thought and then you get annoyed when I say that there will probably be some times when I tune them out, fascinating though they will all undoubtedly be,} the Yeerk complained. {Make up your mind about which one you're unhappy about already! While I will likely do as I please regardless, which one is the problem? Ignoring you or invading your so-called privacy?}

{The problem,} I said as patiently as I could, {is that you are here at all. I don't want you to know literally everything about me and comment on anything and everything in my life but I don't want to be ignored either.}

{That doesn't make sense,} the Yeerk protested.

{It doesn't have to. The underlying theme here is that I don't want you hear and therefore I'm not going to be happy about _anything_ that you say or do. Ever.}

{This would be so much easier if you would just be more reasonable,} the Yeerk insisted.

{Yeah, 'reasonable.' I hardly think that the reasonable thing to do is to be _happy_ that you're here,} I replied. {And I'm not looking on making this easier for _you_.}

{It would make it easier for you, as well,} the Yeerk claimed.

{Really.}

{You wouldn't have to expend energy fighting me and getting broken a little more each time, you wouldn't have to go through life hating everything which can't be pleasant, and I would probably treat you better if you didn't inconvenience me,} the Yeerk said almost earnestly.

{Never.}

{That's what they all say. At first. But no matter, you'll find out for yourself soon enough.}

I didn't want to admit it (and I wouldn't semi-verbally do so regardless of how my thoughts betrayed me) but I was a little worried about that. The Yeerk knew far more than I did about Controllers, after all, even if I couldn't trust that he wasn't lying to me. And how long could I realistically handle this anyway? A year? Five? Ten? I'm only sixteen now. Barring any kind of violent death, which seems a lot more likely now that I've been dragged into a war, I'll live for _decades_. Could I really resist the Yeerk forever? I'm only a few hours into this and I seriously doubt that I could. If I don't find some way of escaping, the future does indeed look bleak.

{You won't,} the Yeerk assured me. {And this is only the first step towards your eventual acceptance of your new life now.}

Since the Yeerk could read my every thought, I couldn't really plan any sort of escape while it was there. When it left…I wasn't paying too much attention to the Yeerk Pool but I think it's reasonable to assume that anyone forced into this would try to escape the minute the Yeerk left so it can't be an easy task. And even should I pull it off, where would I go? There are already some Yeerks that know about my infestation and the more time passes, the more will learn. If I just show up one day without a Yeerk…well, there's little point thinking about that now.

{It's nice to see that you're recognizing just how trapped you are.}

There was a knock on my door.

"Come in," the Yeerk called. It was so bizarre to hear someone else using my voice, to feel someone else moving my body. Would I ever get used to this? I doubted it.

The door opened to reveal my little brother.

This was the first time I'd seen any members of my family since it had happened. This was the moment of truth. Would he realize that anything was wrong? Would my mom and dad?

{They won't,} the Yeerk said confidently. {We Yeerks are very good at passing off as our hosts when we must. It helps that we have complete access to their brains. And even if they did think something was off, what are they supposed to think? That there's a mind-controlling alien in your head? And what if they do come to that conclusion or some other that they won't be talked down from? What would happen then other than just joining you in this?}

It takes a special kind of bastard to crush all of your hopes at once but the Yeerk was quickly proving himself to be that kind of a person.

"Mom said that dinner's ready," Jake said.

"What are we having?" the Yeerk asked, standing up.

Jake grinned. "Mom ordered pizza."

"Sweet," the Yeerk said, following Jake downstairs.

My mom and dad were seated at the table already when I got downstairs.

"Hey," the Yeerk greeted them as he sat down. "Dad's turn to cook, I take it?"

"I will have you know that it takes a far bigger man to admit that it's better for all involved to whip out the take-out menus than to attempt to make something himself and burn down half the neighborhood," my dad claimed.

"Speaking from personal experience?" the Yeerk asked innocently.

"Well, it wasn't _half_ the neighborhood-" my mom started to say.

"Jean!" my dad protested.

Jake just smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Dad. I have faith in you."

"It's nice to know I can count on at least one of you," my dad grumbled, his amused tone belying any real annoyance.

This scene feels so familiar. It could have been like any other night my family and I had dinner together. My mom usually cooks because whenever it's dad's turn he orders out so we always tease him about his lack of cooking ability. He'll make some things like pancakes but for the most part he'll rely on take-out. This all seemed so normal and yet it wasn't. My family were the same as they always were but though it had only been a few hours, I was already far different than I was this morning. And really, they were all interacting with a Yeerk instead of me. I guess it was right about its ability to pass as me.

I hated that it was better that they didn't realize, better if they never knew that I'd been replaced.

{Not to say I told you so since you just did, I simply wanted to note that I'm not currently ignoring you so I heard that,} the Yeerk remarked.

Joy.

"So what did you kids do at school today?" my mom asked. She always asks that even though Jake and I never really have much to say.

Jake shrugged. "My science teacher wasn't there so we had to watch a movie about Galileo. It was pretty boring. Oh, and Marco got an A- on his book report. I don't know how he does it…"

"What's so strange about that?" my dad asked. "Marco's a very smart young man."

"I know," Jake readily agreed. "It's just that he wrote the paper during lunch."

The Yeerk smirked. "Oh, the wonders of junior high…"

"So what did you do?" Jake asked eagerly. He always liked to hear about my day.

The Yeerk shrugged. "Nothing much happened at school. I did finally become a full member of the Sharing afterwards, though."

I saw Jake wrinkle his nose. He doesn't really like the Sharing.

"Good for you, Tom. I hear a lot of good things about the Sharing," my dad said proudly.

I felt a little sick. Even yesterday, I would have been happy with the praise but now that I knew the truth…Would dad's good opinion of the Sharing lead him there?

{One can only hope.}

"You thinking about joining?" the Yeerk asked, seemingly casually. "You really should. It's a lot of fun there and they really just want to make the world a better place."

{For _Yeerks_,} I muttered. Please say no, please say no, please say no…

{I never specified,} the Yeerk said virtuously.

"I'll think about it," my dad said noncommittally. Thankfully. "I am pretty busy."

"Mom?" the Yeerk asked, turning my gaze next to her.

She waved him off. "Oh, I don't know, Tom. It really seems like a young people thing."

"It's not," the Yeerk disagreed. "It's for people of all ages. The Sharing doesn't discriminate."

"We'll see," my mom said in a tone that I knew meant that it wasn't going to happen. I don't remember the last time I'd felt this relieved.

Finally, the Yeerk glanced over at my little brother.

{No, don't,} I snapped.

{Don't what? He as well as your parents will all become Controllers sooner or later,} the Yeerk reasoned.

{Even if that's true, that doesn't mean I want it to happen now!} I cried. {And Jake's only twelve!}

{Better a half-grown body than no body at all.}

"How about it, Jake? You're my last hope here," the Yeerk teased.

Jake hesitated. He never did like saying no to me.

{No, Jake, don't do it. _God_, don't do it!}

"Sorry, Tom. That really doesn't sound like my kind of thing. And Marco would never stop teasing me about joining. Ever," Jake said, sounding apologetic.

Good for you, Jake. That's what little brothers are for, right? Avoiding the mistakes their older ones make.

{I'll get him yet,} the Yeerk vowed. {And then once I have him, convincing your parents to go will be a simple matter.}

It must all look so normal. And yet, it isn't and it never will be again.

Review Please!


	20. The Call

The Call

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_The Yeerk waited while he full impact of direct contact with Tom's mind sank into my own. Tom was defeated. Desperate. He spent his time wishing he could die. He had given up any hope of escape. Given up. _

_{That's how it always is,} the Yeerk said. {At first the host fights, or at least tries. But hour after hour and day after day they see that they cannot rule their own bodies. The host sees that no one even knows what has happened to him. No one **knows** that he is lost in his own head. And, over time, hope dies. The host becomes a faint, shattered creature. Like your brother.} The Yeerk was telling the truth. That was what made it so terrible. It was true. I could feel Tom's complete, utter despair. I could feel that he had accepted defeat. I knew that all he wished for now was an end..._

_The next day I did something stupid. At least, Marco kept telling me it was stupid. But he didn't object very much. He understood. We all met at Cassie's barn. And I used her dad's cellular phone to call Tom at home. I went partly into a wolf morph before I did. Just enough to make the smalleset changes. Enough to change the shape of my mouth and tongue and throat. So that my voice would sound very different. _

_He picked up on the third ring. "Yeah?"_

_"I have a message," I said in a thick, twisted voice that did not sound at all like me. _

_"What?" Tom asked. _

_"Don't give up, Tom. Don't ever give up." I hung up before he could say anything...I wondered if he would have the strength to hold on. But I knew the answer. See, a part of my brother was in my own mind now. _

-Animorphs #6.

When I got home that night, Tom was in a bad mood. Unsurprising, really. After the phone call I'd given him earlier today, his mood could hardly be anything else.

When I called him, I took all the precautions I could. I morphed enough to change my voice enough so that I was still able to be understood and yet not sound even vaguely like myself. In fact, I had to try three times in order to meet with my friends' approval. I called from Cassie's dad's cell phone out in the barn where nobody could overhear me doing this. I made sure to call when I knew that only Tom would be home so no one else would be involved. I even made sure to keep it short and to the point. Hemingway might have been able to make it more concise but I couldn't have.

It was just three sentences, twelve short words. "I have a message" and "Don't give up, Tom. Don't ever give up." Maybe I was on the line long enough for the Yeerks to have traced the call if they were expecting it but they weren't and as far as Ax knows, the Yeerks don't have the technology to retroactively trace a ten-to-fifteen second call.

In all probability, I had gotten away with it. Good. Finding some way to reassure him was all that I could think about but it wouldn't have been worth it if it led to the Yeerks finding us. _Nothing_ would be worth that.

The fact that I'd gotten away with it was probably part of the reason Tom looked so annoyed as was the fact that he couldn't be sure of what it meant. It _might_ have been an 'Andalite Bandit' calling his host to urge him not to give up but how could he be sure? He could report it but with no way to trace the call and no way to be certain of what it was, at best it would just be ignored. At worst…well, in the few months I've known Visser Three, I've come to appreciate that he doesn't deal with wastes of time very well. Or at all in a sane manner. But then, Visser Three doesn't do much in a sane manner. Neither do we, if you ask Marco. Newly motivated by his mother's plight or not, he's still Marco and still thinks we're just asking to get violently killed.

One of the things that I was both counting on and worrying about is the fact that the 'Andalite Bandits' would really have no reason to call Tom and try to give him hope or even to know who he was. Sure, Tom – the real Tom – had saved me by distracting the Visser the first time we had gone down to the Yeerk Pool which the new Yeerk should be aware of but would expressing gratitude towards a host be normal Andalite behavior? I'm increasingly noticing that Ax never tells us anything but I have gotten the impression that it wouldn't be.

It certainly seems unlikely that an Andalite would bother tracking the host in question down but should they happen upon that information…it's flimsy, I know, but at least it's an explanation. If nothing of the sort had happened and an 'Andalite Bandit' had made the call then it would be a lot more suspicious since it wasn't like we had decided to go on a calling hosts and attempting to help them regain the will to live binge or anything.

The new Yeerk would hopefully think it was an Andalite who had taken an interest for whatever reason (I even used Tom's name so it couldn't have been a wrong number. Well, probably not. 'Tom' is a pretty common name, after all) and not a human who knew. If the Yeerk did decide that it was a human then I'd be at risk. Since I'm only thirteen, I'd probably be less at risk than other, older people but it could still put my parents at risk.

And then, for all Tom knows it's not even about the Yeerk invasion. I didn't mention Yeerks or the invasion once in the three entire sentences I spoke. In the past week I told my dad not to give up his ongoing attempt to not burn the rolls, my mom not to give up trying to get the stain out of my favorite shirt, and Ax not to give up trying to ever pass as a normal human for longer than five minutes. For all Tom knew, I was telling him not to give up trying to pass pre-Calc. Granted, if it were something so innocuous and non-Yeerk-related then there was no need for all the secrecy. Still, the world is full of very strange people including secret admirers and stalkers so you could never _really_ be sure.

Tom probably hadn't thought of these alternatives or had dismissed them and chosen to believe that it was an 'Andalite Bandit' calling for whatever reason and since this just happened to be the day after 'I' was acting weird for a couple of days, it did put us at more risk than it would normally. Still, the last Yeerk had been so eager to infest me and Visser Three so desperate to eliminate us after Visser One had embarrassed him by allowing us to escape that I really believe that if Tom had any suspicions about me I'd be on my way to the Yeerk Pool now.

I'm glad that it looks like I'm going to get away with this because I honestly don't know if I could have _not_ done it. It was one thing to know that my brother had a Yeerk in his head seeing his every thought and controlling even the most miniscule and automatic of his actions. It was one thing going down to the Yeerk Pool and seeing how messed up and how desperate the temporarily freed hosts were and how badly they craved their freedom. It was quite another to see it for myself.

I had known the basic facts of infestation but I hadn't really _known_ what it was like. And how could I? Our top two sources for information on the Yeerks, Elfangor and Ax, had never been infested – well, presumably – and so they wouldn't understand any better than we would. Being a Controller is about more than just the physical acts of losing control over your body and having someone read your every thought. It really messes you up. The Yeerk can target your every weakness and exploit it better than anyone else ever could. Any time you tried to argue against what the Yeerks were saying or doing it could pinpoint that one weakness in your argument and completely shut you down. It didn't make the Yeerk right or you pathetic but it's hard to keep that in perspective when the Yeerk continues to do this day in and day out. Even when they let up, it's not because of you but because they have something else to occupy their time or because they just lose interest in tormenting you.

I was only a Controller long enough to personally experience the very basic beginnings of the kind of hell most people go through. I did see the effects of that kind of torture, though. I saw it very clearly although it was only second-hand. I saw it in my brother.

I don't pretend to fully understand what he's been through. To do that would be an insult, I think. I do understand far better than I ever could have before, though, and I saw how his life was only a few short days ago. There was nothing particularly traumatizing about that morning at breakfast, I don't think. I may have been trying to decide if I could ever kill Tom if I had to but I had been wondering that on and off since the day we failed to save him. That _I_ failed to save him. Tom's Yeerk had been trying to talk him into joining the Sharing but he always did that and I always said no. Nothing particularly unusual about that. That can only lead me to one conclusion: there was _nothing_ unusual about that morning. That was how things stood _every day_.

Somehow that made it far worse than if I'd seen his worst moment.

And what the Yeerk said stuck with me. He said a lot of things but the one that stood out the most to me in his little rant about how he was going to break me was that people see that no one knows what's happening to them. That was one of the things that made Temrash's list of what caused hope to die. Time passes with no change in the situation, you can't control your own body, and no one has any idea.

And more to the point, the Yeerk had only had three hosts beside me. There was a Gedd and a Hork-Bajir and my brother. The Gedd and Hork-Bajir have been openly enslaved for years. Their friends and family and even just the random people they run into all _know_. The invasion of Earth is a stealthy one and virtually no one who isn't a Controller themselves knows. That can only be a human problem and the Yeerk had only infested one human.

That could only mean that one of the worst things for Tom about the fact that his very mind was stolen from him was the fact that none of us had realized. Sure, if we had we'd have only been made Controllers ourselves and he has to know that but that wouldn't make the fact that none of us did pick up on the fact that he'd been replaced any easier to bear.

I didn't notice. I feel like I should have. Of _course_ I should have. A Yeerk came and stole my brother's body and it didn't even register to me? I still can't believe it. Sure, I noticed that we'd been spending less time together but I just thought it was one of those things that happened when you got older. I wasn't happy about it but I had thought that it was normal.

If only.

I'm getting this growing fear that even if the war ended _tomorrow_ that it wouldn't be enough. That people like my brother couldn't just go back to their normal lives as if nothing happened. There _will_ be lasting effects of being a Controller and I have no idea how to deal with that. Sending them to a therapist, maybe? Would a therapist even know what they're going through without having been through it themselves and thus need therapy as well? I guess it's kind of like having multiple personality disorder and kind of like having locked-in syndrome. Logically, I know that the day I'll have to worry about that is a long time off - if it ever comes - but I can't help it.

I know that one simple little phone call won't be enough to turn things around and it can't make it better but I guess that I thought that if he just had one little bit of hope, one tiny bit of proof that someone out there knew and cared enough to take the risk of letting him know that they knew…maybe it would make things just a little bit easier. Maybe it would give him the strength to keep going.

It's what I choose to believe at any rate.

"You're staring at me again," Tom announced.

I really have got to stop doing that or I might make him suspicious…or freak him out. Both would be bad, particularly since I'm still not quite sure what happened with Ax while I was off learning far more than I ever wanted to about how the other half lives.

"We went over this, remember? Your forehead, empty space…" I trailed off.

Tom rolled his eyes. "You have _got_ to stop using that line."

"Only when it stops being funny," I replied.

"It was _never_ funny," Tom insisted.

I forced a smile. I've been getting better at that lately. "I think you might be slightly biased."

Another eye roll. "Whatever."

"So what's got you in such a bad mood?" I asked innocently, vaguely wondering what he'd say.

"Oh, nothing much," Tom lied. "Just this stupid prank call earlier."

"What, like 'is your refrigerator running'?" I asked.

Tom shrugged. "Something like that."

"I've never really gotten those," I remarked. "I mean, even if someone didn't know the old joke, why would they tell some random stranger on the telephone if their refrigerator is working?"

"I guess people don't really think that much about it," Tom answered. "Listen, it's really not a big deal. I just don't like it when people waste my time like that."

Oh, I just _bet_ he doesn't.

Fortunately for him, he won't have to deal with any more 'prank' calls from me due to the security risk. He and I, however, are _far_ from done.

Review Please!


	21. Are We Just Bad Parents?

Are We Just Bad Parents?

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

In all honesty, I'm not sure if I hate the war or the post-war more. They both had their share of horrible, horrible moments and the pre-war was infinitely better. It's so weird to define my life by a war. This isn't the first war I've lived through, after all. There was Vietnam and the Gulf War but somehow it just didn't seem to make the same kind of an impression, probably because it took place so far away and only indirectly impacted my life. I wasn't even old enough to remember the start of Vietnam.

I'm not entirely sure when to mark the start of the Yeerk War either. Was it back in 1966 when the Yeerks first escaped their home world? 1969 when the Andalites realized they were going after the Hork-Bajir? During the Gulf War when the first Yeerks landed on Earth and enslaved a human? A few years later when the rest of the Yeerk Empire became aware of this mythical 'Class Five' species (though I'd like to think our victory means we'd be considered Class Four)? The night my son didn't listen to me and walked home through an abandoned construction site? The day I got infested?

The Andalites seem to mark it by the date that the Yeerks killed some of their people, stole one of their ships, and fled their planet but here on Earth people tend to look at Jake and his friends getting involved as the beginning. I can see the sense in that. Before they found out about the Yeerks and started fighting back (however unsuccessfully in the beginning) it wasn't really a war for us. Sure, the Andalites were off fighting somewhere else but it was more of an invasion that we were powerless to oppose. Had the invasion not been a secret it would have been a whole different story and we would have at least stood a chance but, well, that was why it was a stealth invasion in the first place.

I know that the war started long before I was made aware of it. How could it not have? It even touched my family a year before Jake got dragged into it (sure he said that he made his own choices but he was thirteen and they had his brother. What choice was that?) when Tom got infested. Logically, I know this and yet it doesn't feel real.

I know that Jake met Elfangor sometime in May seven years ago. I know that Tom was infested approximately a year earlier but nothing more specific than that. Jake might've known more but he never talked about his brother, hadn't so much as mentioned him since the funeral. My husband and I were infested mere weeks before the war ended. It was horrible and terrifying and so very difficult to deal with the knowledge that my only hope was my sixteen-year-old child.

And yet. And yet it was harder to face the fact that for three years my youngest had been fighting a war and I had barely noticed any changes within him and those that I did see I attributed to puberty. Hard to face the realization that he'd been a child soldier and would never forgive himself for not getting us out in time. Never forgive himself for doing nothing about Tom for three years. My first instinct was to blame him for that but I knew Jake – or at least thought I did. He'd always adored his big brother and even though they had been drifting apart since…well, since Tom's infestation, I guess, the only way Jake would have let things stand was if he thought that he didn't have any other choice. I'll probably never know all the details but I can trust that.

And then there was Tom. Even before we started losing Jake to the war, we lost him even more completely. At least with Jake, it was still him pretending everything was normal and he did so largely to protect us. With Tom, it might have been his voice and his body but the deception was all a Yeerk's doing. He kept us ignorant of what had happened to our eldest even while he plotted the complete subjugation of our entire species. It had been four years and I'd never even noticed. I'd actually been proud of him for his involvement with the Sharing when I should have been horrified. Jake noticed and he had to keep quiet but I honestly had no idea that anything was wrong until the day we went to go buy new lawnmowers and ended up with new Yeerks instead.

While I saw enough of Jake post-war to know just how much he had done that he could never forgive, I can only speculate on Tom since…well, since. It wasn't his fault that we got infested. I _never_ blamed him for that. The only time I might have is when it first happened and I was confused and angry and trying to make sense of everything. I didn't, though, because I was too busy being horrified and waiting to wake up. I'm glad I didn't because that would have been difficult to forgive myself for and I already carry the weight of not noticing what my sons had been going through for years on end. Jake told me once that he was glad that I never noticed because if I had then it would have just put everyone in danger but that doesn't change the fact that I feel horrible for not even being really concerned. I knew that Tom was gone more and more in the weeks before I was taken and Jake spent most of his time at home sleeping. How could I have been so blind?

I spoke to Steve and he agreed that neither Tom nor Jake were to blame for what happened. I can tell he feels guilty, too, but strangely I don't blame him. It would make sense if I did since I blame myself but somehow I don't. I know that I still haven't forgiven myself for the Yeerk in my head trying to kill Jake right in front of our house even though there was nothing I could have done. Tom managed to probably save Jake's life by knocking the Dracon Beam out of my hand and I'm still in awe of the fact that he pulled it off given how desperate I was to drop the weapon but couldn't quite do it.

I don't know if he ever forgave himself for what the Yeerk in his head did to us or tried to do to Jake. I don't know if he ever blamed Jake or was proud of his little brother for being the one to bring the Yeerk Empire to its knees. Did he understand when Jake sent Rachel after him or did he resent that Jake would send their cousin to kill him so close to the end? Did it kill him when he thought his Yeerk had killed Jake? I think I know the answer to that one, actually, but the only way I'll ever find the answers to the others is if I meet him in Heaven one day.

I have to say, I've become a lot more religious since Tom died. Before I was more agnostic but the minute Jake told me the news I knew that there had to be an afterlife because the last time I saw my firstborn just _couldn't_ be twenty minutes after Jake had fled our house. I don't even know the last time I really saw him, not tainted by a Yeerk. And when Jake disappeared a year ago, that only confirmed my conviction that that just couldn't be the end. He had only told us that he was leaving and I got the feeling he didn't think he was coming back. Later Cassie had quietly let Steve, Marco's parents, Loren, and myself know what our children had been up to but though it was a relief to at least _know_, the fact remains that they left on a suicide mission a year ago and I don't know if I'll ever see my son again. At least I know the last time I saw him, even if he never said goodbye.

That's why I don't know which I hated more. I either had no idea what was going on while my son's were suffering or else I'm fully informed while one son is dead and the other severely depressed and now missing.

"Are we just bad parents?" I wondered. I hadn't really meant to say it aloud.

Steve, seated across from me at the table, raised an eyebrow. "What brought this on?" he asked carefully.

"Five years ago, did you ever think that it would end up this way? That we'd lose both of our children at nineteen?" I asked.

"We don't _know_ that Jake's gone," Steve pointed out.

"And we may never know," I said bitterly. "How much time will need to pass before we accept that he's dead or will we be waiting for him to come home for the rest of our lives?"

"Longer than a year," Steve said firmly. "You know what Z-Space is like. They might not have even reached the Blade Ship yet." The Blade Ship where Tom died remains unspoken, as does the fact that he died a snake and was probably either fed to a Taxxon or disposed of as waste.

"And when they do, what then? It's one little ship against an entire Blade Ship," I pointed out. "They can't possibly win."

"They couldn't possibly win before and yet Earth was saved all the same," Steve countered.

"Yes, because that worked out so well for them, didn't it?" I asked sarcastically.

"I think I know where this is coming from," Steve said slowly. "This isn't about Jake going off on a suicide mission, is it? I think we both know that he would have gone even if he had been perfectly well-adjusted after the war-"

"Which he wasn't," I interrupted. "He was hurting and guilty and depressed and we didn't help him."

"We did the best we could," Steve disagreed. "And I'd like to think that we _did_ help him. He just had some very serious problems and our support couldn't make all that go away. Maybe if he had sought help but he didn't want to and we couldn't force him to."

"_We didn't even notice_," I whispered.

Steve nodded. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"

Of course it did, how could it not? "One son became a slave and the other a battle-hardened general and we didn't even notice."

"What were we supposed to think? Yes, Tom was getting distant and then Jake started always being gone but they were teenagers. It was supposed to be normal," Steve told me.

That wasn't good enough. "It wasn't."

"We know that _now_ but who would have looked at the distance, at the being gone, at the exhaustion and realized that aliens were not only real but were invading and Jake and Tom were caught up in that?" Steve demanded. "Jean, honey, you're expecting too much of yourself."

"You're probably right," I admitted. "But still, we should have thought that _something_ was up! Peter said that he used to worry that Marco had joined a gang."

"And what do you think would have happened if we did get worried? We would have had to have tried to intervene," Steve pointed out. "If we got in the Yeerk's way then we probably would have only gotten infested sooner and endangered Jake and the whole resistance. If we started paying too much attention to Jake then we might have compromised his ability to sneak off and fight and maybe even alerted Tom to the fact that something wasn't right."

"So you're saying that it was for the best that we were so blind?" I couldn't believe it.

Steve hesitated before nodding. "I am saying that. I know that it makes you feel like a horrible parent and to be honest sometimes I get that way, too. But as hard as it is to accept, everything depended on that."

Logically, I knew he was right. Maybe one day I might actually be able to believe him.

Review Please!


	22. No Time For Regret

No Time For Regret

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: The dialogue from 'You sure, Jake?' on is from the book but only the dialogue.

A long time ago, Rachel and I had a pretty heated discussion – at least on her part – about lines. She had confronted me about the fact that I called her to do my dirty work in the middle of the David disaster which made it a little over a year into the war. I hadn't really given it much conscious thought up until that point but once she called me on it I realized that I'd been doing it for awhile. That didn't change but I was now painfully aware of it. I had known that it wouldn't change and I was sorry for that fact.

I'm not sorry now. I will be later, when this is all over. If I survive, that is, which is hardly a guarantee, I'll have all the time in the world to be sorry for this but now there's no time and no room for weakness. The plan is still such a delicate thing in my mind and one mistake will doom us all and the Earth will fall along with us. The stakes have _never_ been higher.

Rachel only sees part of this. She knows that the Andalites are coming but not to save us. She knows that we can't hold off the creation of a new Yeerk Pool for long. She's _more_ than clear on the fact that we need to take the Pool ship and she's even excited about it. She knows the Taxxons and Tom agreed to help us and that I have a plan.

That's quite a bit to miss. I do actually trust the Taxxons, I suppose, for all that Arbron was clearly not surprised to see Tom show up and hadn't given us the slightest head's up. I'm not sure I would have actually shown up if he had but ambushing us like that still was not the most trustworthy thing he could have done. I've been a Taxxon; I can't imagine living with that terrible all-consuming hunger for longer than two hours. Combined with the fact that all the Taxxons are supposed to do is attack and distract the Visser and that they _volunteered_ for this instead of killing me when I was at their mercy…Yeah, I believe them. The Yeerks will never let them escape that hunger and if we win they might have a chance to. Assuming we either rescue the morphing cube or convince the Andalites, which honestly seem equally likely (or unlikely as the case may be) at this point.

Those are worries for later, though.

Tom is another matter. The Yeerk in his head. Try as I might to differentiate (which has only gotten harder the more time passes), they'll share the same fate. My friends might have their silent suspicions (they always do) but I don't think that anyone else is as convinced as I am that he's just 'allying' with us to make use of the Taxxons' distraction to take the Blade ship and to try to enact an elaborate revenge on me for…well, existing, I guess. It wasn't like he had ever even heard of me when I became an Animorph so taking it personally is absurd. Absurd but exactly what he's doing, of course. If Tom's Yeerk weren't in the top five of my all-time most hated foes, I might have even felt sorry for him for whatever Visser One did to him once they found at about me.

I know I haven't been the most, shall we say, open and approachable person since my parents were taken (particularly towards Cassie since she betrayed us and may have enabled our victory and made it impossible to save my brother) but it doesn't matter. If any of them were convinced that Tom was absolutely going to betray us then they would have told me. The risk of me yelling at them was not even remotely worth keeping quiet and allowing us to get killed and failing the Earth in the hour of her greatest need. I doubt anyone _really_ trusts Tom but I won't tell them that it's the assumption we'll be working under just yet.

Not until Rachel's gone.

She looks at me expectantly.

{Rachel, I have a job for you.}

{Yeah?} Rachel asked. She sounded so innocent all of a sudden and 'innocent' is not something I've thought of any of us as (not even Cassie and _especially_ not Rachel) in years. It was probably just because she didn't know what was in store for her. Even Tobias with the horrifying home life and Ax in the military were comparatively innocent when you look at them now and Rachel's innocent in that she thinks she might survive the day. I was going to ruin that in a moment. {After what you sent Marco to do, I almost don't want to know.}

{Well, I can promise that it won't be something of the needle in a haystack variety,} I replied, strangely reluctant to tell her. Stalling wouldn't change anything. If I told her now or twenty minutes from now, her job would remain the same and it would be just as suicidal. If I told her now or an hour from now, it wouldn't allow her to live a moment longer. It _would_ allow her to live free of the knowledge that she was being ordered to die but I really don't know if that's a kindness or not.

{Good, the only looking that I've ever been able to stand is the kind involved in shopping,} Rachel remarked. When was the last time I heard her talking about something so mundane? When was the last time Rachel had even gotten a chance to go? I suppose it's something that she evidently still enjoys it though she'll never get a chance to go again. {What is it?}

I had to tell her. {Rachel, do you trust Tom?}

Rachel laughed. {Your brother? Absolutely. The Yeerk? No chance in hell. In fact, even if we manage to win this thing solely because of our alliance with him and he lives up to his end of the bargain then I still won't trust him.}

As I happened, that was exactly how I felt about the matter. The fact I wouldn't have trusted him even if he hadn't tried to have my father infested or killed several times after Grandpa G died, hadn't gotten my parents infested, hadn't attacked me and stolen the morphing cube, and didn't display open hostility whenever he saw me really plays into why I wasn't comfortable with the plan even before I realized why Tom was lying to us. I hope to God – if he even exists and at this point the jury's out on that one – that I'm letting my own emotions and prejudice convince me that Tom's lying when he's not. I doubt it, though. Not even the slightest of guarantees, that cut off rant…

{I still think we should have just taken him down in that Taxxon tunnel,} Rachel continued. {I mean, I thought we needed him for those codes but you sent Marco after Erek and if he finds him then I figure he can do that, right?}

{I agree,} I told her shortly. I didn't want to think too much about the fact that I had almost done just that. I don't know if Erek can crack the Yeerk codes in fifteen minutes (if Tom was even telling the truth about us having that much time) but I'd find out soon enough and if he couldn't…well, we really needed him to be able to. If I had remembered Erek and thought he could do what Ax could not, I would have gone after Tom.

Where would that leave me? I can't imagine that Tom would go down to meet us without telling _anyone_ where he was going even if he obviously had to keep our meeting clandestine. Would we have been able to take him without his followers noticing? It might have been tricky getting him out since we didn't have the Chee with us and one of us would have had to have taken Tom's place in morph. The two hour limit made that a risk as did the fact that we didn't know enough about Tom's plan (or even his personality, come to think of it) to pass as him. Or…even his name. It might have been a disaster.

Or. Or we could have pulled it off. We could have had one of our own people in charge of the Blade ship and my brother and my cousin wouldn't have to die. We could have been in a much better position to win this and not have to worry about Tom trying to kill us when we least suspected it.

It could have gone either way, really, and I'll never know. And I can't think about that right now.

{You do?} Rachel sounded surprised. {Then why did you agree to work with him?}

{We need him,} I said grimly.

{But if he's going to betray us-} Rachel started to say.

{Our agreed upon plan is to send one of us over to Tom to be roughed up enough to be a convincing captive,} I interrupted. {Obviously, we weren't going to sacrifice anyone even Tom was on the level with us so that's where the Chee come in. We're supposed to sneak aboard the Pool ship through her and I don't think we can do so otherwise. I don't think he'll turn on us until our moment of triumph right when we've succeeded. It would be out of character, as Cassie would say.}

{So you have a plan for that then,} Rachel said, relieved. {What's my job?}

{He wants us dead and he wants Visser One dead, too. I don't know if he'll manage to get to the Blade ship or not but if he does…Rachel, the Blade ship is far faster and more powerful than the Pool ship and Visser One won't see the betrayal coming. He'll be able to kill us all and we won't be able to do a thing.}

{But I can,} Rachel said, a horrible realization in her voice. {If Tom betrays us, if he gets to the Blade ship, if he gives the order to attack the Pool ship…you want me to go with him. You want me to stop him.}

{More than that, I _need_ you to. Nothing we accomplish on the Pool ship will be worth a damn if Tom just blows us out of the sky,} I said quietly. {And if we die, if we're not there to explain to the Andalites what happened and to force their hand then you know what they'll do to Earth.}

{I do,} Rachel confirmed.

{And?} I asked. I knew she'd do it but I felt compelled to ask anyway. To make it seem less like I was ordering her to die.

{You sure, Jake?} she asked solemnly. {Because if you tell me "Go!" I'll follow your orders. You know what that means.}

{Yes, Rachel, I know what it means.} I've been trying to avoid this for three years now. Marco almost managed to stop our fight before it even began by asking me what if it came down to this, came down to me killing him. Despite all the close calls, I never really thought it would happen. Even on those few occasions where it was only my friends' intervention that saved my brother's life, it still didn't quite feel real. It doesn't feel real now but it will. Soon it will be all too terrifyingly real.

{It won't be the Yeerk, Jake. It'll be Tom. It'll be him.} I wonder what it says when _Rachel_ of all people is the one cautioning me about the fact I'm having my own brother assassinated. Nothing good, at any rate. It will be the Yeerk and it will be Tom and it won't be fair but it will be necessary. Three years ago, all he wanted was to die. Does he still want that? Would he still want that mere hours before victory? It doesn't matter what he wants, of course, and I'll have no way of knowing regardless.

{I know that. And I…if it happens, if it comes down that way, I don't have a plan for getting you out. You'd be on your own.} That's as close as I can come to outright telling her that she needs to die. What else can she do? Take on the entire crew of the ship alone? I wouldn't want to see Rachel against half a dozen others and the crew is going to be several times that. Find an escape pod or a bug fighter and try to head towards the Pool ship without being shot down? It's unlikely at best and she doesn't know how to work either but it's the only long-shot chance I can see.

{That's how I like it.} She didn't even sound scared but she must be. We've all faced our own mortality before (and I've actually died twice) but it's never been quite this certain before.

There was nothing more to say. {Okay, then. Get started. Make sure Cassie doesn't know.}

{You still don't trust her?} Rachel asked angrily. Goddess of War Rachel who was about to embark on a secret suicide mission and could still take the time to be upset at what she perceived as a slight to her best friend. Of course I trusted Cassie. I want to marry her, after all. Or at least I do right now. After this is over, after Rachel and Tom…well, who knows what I'll want then? Other than for that to not have happened.

{She loves us both, Rachel. I can't make her part of this. I can't let her know in advance, so, you know, if it happens, if it happens, I don't want her spending the rest of her life wondering if she could have stopped it somehow.}

{Okay, Jake. You're right. And you're right to use me for this. Not exactly something I'm proud of, maybe, but later, you know, if – don't be blaming yourself, okay?} Part of me wishes that I could go in her place but I know that's impossible. I'm not as good at combat as Rachel is. It's my plan and I need to be the one to see it through. I'm the one with the repuation to make use of. I honestly don't know if I'd be able to kill Tom myself.

I watched her fly off. She didn't say goodbye to her family but I guess that would have made it too hard to go. I know that flying away from my Yeerk-controlled family was the hardest thing I've ever done and they were all actively trying to kill me.

'Don't be blaming yourself'? I didn't. Not yet.

But I would.

Review Please!


	23. Random Bathroom Savior

Random Bathroom Savior

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_It was no big deal, really. Except that Tom - he's my big brother - he was this total legend on the junior high basketball team. Now he's the main scoreer for the high school team. So everyone expected me to make the team easy. Only I didn't. Lately, Tom and I hadn't been hanging out as much. Not like we used to. So I figured, you know, if I got his old position on the team..._

_I actually met Tobias when he had his head in a toilet. There were these two big guys holding him down and laughing while they flushed, sending Tobias's straggly blond hair swirling around the bowl. I told the two creeps to step off, and ever since then, Tobias figured I was his friend. _

-Animorphs #1.

I don't like school bathrooms and I never have. Maybe the girls' bathrooms are different (in elementary school the girls used to claim that they had a couch in there, beyond where you could see from the hallway, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't actually true) but the boys' bathroom is almost enough to make you just hold it. It's _always_ awkward if someone's in there with you and even if they aren't then you still have to deal with the fact that the water's always ice-cold and there's a good chance there's no soap. And did I mention how disgusting school bathrooms always are? I'm not sure how much of that is the janitor's doing and how much is just the result of several hundred teenage and preteen boys using the same bathroom for seven hours a day.

Still, seven hours is an awfully long time to go without just because of a little sanitation concern and some awkwardness about company and so I usually just go once during lunch. In my quest to try to avoid having witnesses, I always go a bathroom a little farther away from the lunchroom. Since it's not a passing period and another minute or so from the cafeteria, I can usually count on being the only one there but I wasn't today.

The first thing I noticed was a repeated flushing sound which indicated that someone was either having way too much fun with the toilet or they were trying to unclog it. I don't think I've ever actually seen a school toilet clogged – they're much bigger than the ones at home – but I guess it's possible. It wouldn't happen naturally but you never knew when someone might be having _way_ too much fun with a toilet and discover just what it took to do so. I also wasn't sure if the janitors would take the time to unclog a toilet during school or if they'd have more important though mysterious janitor-type things going on.

Of course, the sound of malicious laughter that quickly followed pretty much told me which of the two scenarios it was. Unless, I guess, a janitor was trying to torture the poor toilet while unclogging it or secretly making the toilet dirtier. Not like I have some sort of janitor complex or anything. And if I did it would absolutely be Marco's fault for daring me to go in the girl's bathroom once a couple years back and then not being a proper lookout and warning me that a janitor was nearby. I don't even remember why we were there but it was after school so it was probably for some club or something. What I _do_ remember is being mildly traumatized by the giant guy yelling at me for – get this – sexual harassment...not like I even knew what that was at the time. I wasn't in there long enough to get a good look around, unfortunately.

All three stalls were open only the handicapped stall was big enough for more than one person. I thought I heard multiple voices and I was kind of hoping that there was more than one person in there. You see, as strange and slightly disturbing as people playing with a toilet is, it is even more alarming when it's just one person in there amusing himself. At least when there's more than one person, there's someone else there to egg you on. I know I never even _think_ about doing half the stupid things I do when Marco's not around. He, of course, thinks about them plenty but only does most of it when I'm there. The perils of being best friends with a self-proclaimed evil genius, I guess. I don't mind.

Now, I had a choice here. I could go about my business and try my utmost to ignore the fact that other people were in here with me and hope they didn't lose interest and come out before I was done…_or_ I could go and see just what was so amusing in there. The smart thing to do, of course, would be to just ignore them but for somebody that everyone's always so quick to label 'responsible' I rarely actually do what I'd consider the smart thing. Marco's influence, no doubt.

I walked over to the handicapped stall and saw these two huge guys who had to have been held back a year. Or two. Or maybe five. The point is, these were really big guys and one of them was holding this kid upside while the other flushed, sending the poor guy's straggly blonde hair swirling around the toilet bowl. I vaguely remembered seeing this kid around before but he wasn't in any of my classes and I didn't know his name. As a matter of fact, I think he was new. It wasn't really surprising to see him of all people in this position. I had never so much as spoken to this guy but something about him just screamed vulnerability. A perfect bully magnet.

The guy's eyes were tightly shut and he looked like he was trying to pretend that he was somewhere – anywhere – else. I couldn't blame him. I felt my lip curl in disgust as I took the scene in. It's not like I'm some sanitation nut (I'm really not! _Everyone_ thinks school bathrooms are nasty) but people went to the bathroom in those things and despite how much – undoubtedly chemically-treated – water washed over it it was still completely gross and his _hair_ was touching all of that. When he was eventually released the toilet water would drip all over him and he'd be covered with that until he went home and could take a shower. Not to mention that I don't think holding someone upside down like that could be very good for them, what with all the blood rushing to his head. It couldn't be very comfortable either and was all in all just a horrible experience.

After a few seconds, the flusher looked up from his work to say something to his friend when he spotted me.

"Hey," he said, hostility practically radiating off of him. "Bug off. We're kind of busy here."

"Yeah," the other one agreed, no less menacing than his friend. "Use one of the other stalls."

The upside down boy opened his eyes then and tentatively looked at me. They seemed to be pleading with me to do something, to save him though it didn't look like he was really expecting anything. Why would he, after all? It wasn't like I knew and I was just one guy while _both_ of his tormentors were like twice my size. Getting involved would be a very bad idea. Even if I got involved and somehow managed to stop them, it wouldn't change anything tomorrow. And even if these two backed off, there would still be more bullies. More than likely I'd be fortunate to just get laughed at and ignored and there was a good chance I'd share this guy's fate if I tried to intercede. This would be a huge risk for literally no payoff.

Marco would have been out of there before the guys even noticed he was there because that's the smart thing to do in this situation but for somebody that everyone's always so quick to label 'responsible' I rarely actually do what I'd consider the smart thing.

"Hey, man, step off," I told them, my voice surprisingly steady. "Leave him alone."

_That _got their attention. They both froze and I was a little worried that the one holding the guy up would drop him. The one who had been flushing stepped away from the toilet and got right up in my face. I'm not a particularly confrontational guy. I don't get into fights and I don't like conflict. Clichéd though it may be, the 'why can't we all just get along' rhetoric really appeals to me. I can't remember the last time I was so nervous.

Even the basketball tryouts that are being held after school aren't worrying me as much as what these two guys could do to me. These tryouts are really important to me. Not only does everyone expect me to make the team easy (which, if I'm being honest, I'm having a bit of doubt about) but I really need this. It's my last, desperate attempt to find some way to close the distance that has sprung up between Tom and I. I'm not really sure when it started or how to fix it but it bothers me and since I know that he practically lives for basketball, if anything can help us bond again then it's this. And if not…well, I guess I'll have to think of something else. But seriously, I have no other ideas. I can't help but wonder how I could possibly tryout if I'm all black and blue but that's really not very helpful.

I know that if I show weakness then I just know that they'll go in for the kill so I do my best to not flinch and to just stare them down. It's almost unnaturally quiet and the time feels like it's passing far, far slower than it actually is.

I guess it must have worked or something because eventually the guy standing way too close stepped back. Huh. I honestly hadn't expected that. "Whatever."

The other guy dropped the guy he was holding and the two left the bathroom. It looked painful but the guy didn't cry out at all.

The kid on the floor stood up slowly once he was sure they were gone. "Hey, thanks," he said before walking out of the stall.

I followed him. "Oh, I just did what anybody would have done. It was the right thing to do." It's what Tom would have done.

The guy I apparently saved had gone to the sink and was reaching for a paper towel to dry his hair off with when he stopped short and turned to face me. I had been right; there was 'water' dripping all over him. "Do you really think that?"

That was an odd question. "Yeah. I guess I do."

"Well you'd be wrong," the kid said bluntly. He wasn't being rude, though. There was respect in his eyes and maybe even a little awe. "You're not the first one to walk in on them doing that or something else. You're just the first one actually give a damn."

Well, what was I supposed to say to that? I was just trying to go to the bathroom in peace – which I had yet to do, come to think of it – not make a profound difference in someone's life. "I'm Jake."

"Hi, Jake," he greeted. "I'm Tobias."

"It's nice to meet you," I said automatically.

Tobias manages a smile at that. "Nicer for me than for you, I'm guessing. That was amazing."

I shrugged awkwardly. "I didn't even really do anything. I just asked them to go away and they decided to be obliging. If they hadn't wanted to, there wasn't anything I could have done."

Tobias tilted his head, considering me. "Maybe. But the point is that they _did_ listen to you and that even if there wasn't much you thought you could do you still stood up to them. They're like eight feet tall and there were two of them and you still did it. Bravest thing I've ever seen."

"You must not have seen many acts of bravery then," I joked weakly.

Tobias nodded, looking a little sad. "That's true. Listen, I should go. I'll see you around, Jake."

Something about the way he looked at me made me think that he'd be hanging around quite a bit and I was sure that Marco would just _love_ that.

Review Please!


	24. Humans and Their Losing Battles

Humans and Their Losing Battles

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_"I was hoping to get here in time to take her to the airport but the traffic was terrible. I saw Tom walking home and picked him up...So, Tom's already informed me that he doesn't want to leave his friends to attend his great-grandfather's funeral," my father said, looking at Tom, not me. "However, he doesn't have a choice. We're going. All of us."..._

_"Dad, I can't," Tom insisted. "The Sharing's expecting me to help out this weekend. I gave them my word!" _

_"Well, you'll just have to explain that something more important came up," my father said. "I thought The Sharing was about promoting family values, right? Well, we're going to pay our respects to Grandpa G as a family." _

-Animorphs #31.

I'm normally not sure if I hate watching the Yeerk pretending to be me (and chronically trying to convince everyone I know and love to join me in this hell, of course, but that almost goes without saying) or not pretending with his fellows as he actively works to further the invasion more. They both have their downsides and I usually decide that I'd prefer whichever one wasn't happening, to the great annoyance of the Yeerk who thinks I'm just a contrarian. All things considered, I don't see where _he_ gets off getting annoyed at _me_ but he assures me that that's also my fault. Let's just say that this Yeerk isn't big on taking responsibility for his own actions.

Still, things had been busy lately between Visser One's – or was it the ex-Visser One? – visit to Earth looking for the colony of free Hork-Bajir and the upcoming opening of the new community center. There's an anti-morphing ray being developed as well but I really don't have much to do with that. I do know that trying to capture an Andalite to test it on is only slightly more likely than getting Visser Three to volunteer to test it. We all know that the free colony of Hork-Bajir exists somewhere but no one's quite sure where or how. The Vissers thought that they had found it not long ago but it turned out to just be an Andalite trap. Since the Hork-Bajir aren't smart enough to be able to hide for this long on their own, the minute we knew there was, in fact, a free colony then we knew the Andalites had to be involved.

What's harder to understand is _why_. While much of my admittedly limited knowledge of Andalites comes from a distinctly biased source, they really don't give off the impression of caring for other species. To them, it's not about saving anybody but about stopping their mess. Maybe they just want to piss off the Yeerks. If they do, it's certainly working and doing wonders for morale. The Hork-Bajir get the comfort of not having their _entire_ race enslaved and the way we humans see it, should we ever manage to escape we stand at least as good a chance as they did in keeping away from the Yeerks.

Today being Thursday meant that I would actually be going home after school before spending most of the weekend at the Sharing. Since I already spent far _far_ too much time there (though to be fair, I would consider _any_ time spent there to be too much), I was almost enjoying this brief respite during the walk home. I say almost, of course, because there's only so much you can nearly enjoy _anything_ under certain circumstances. Having a Yeerk in your head is one of those circumstances.

{_Must_ you be so melodramatic?} the Yeerk asked with a long-suffering sigh.

{It's mine to be,} I retorted curtly.

{One of the very few things, yes,} the Yeerk granted me. He knew full well how saying these things annoyed me, of course, but he still insists he's not being provocative.

And he wonders why I'm being 'melodramatic.'

{Not wondering, no,} the Yeerk corrected me. Responding to things I don't actually address to him makes the list, as well. {Just annoyed.}

{I assure you, your presence here annoys me far more than mine does you,} I told him.

{Now, you don't know that,} the Yeerk argued. {Let me assure you that I'd be much happier if that free will remover had actually turned out to be possible.}

There really was no arguing with him.

{And yet you continue doing it anyway,} the Yeerk noted. {I will never understand this human impulse to attempt the impossible. There really is no point to it.}

{Maybe not,} I conceded. {But that's only a maybe and if you don't even try then you _know_ that you won't succeed. You won't have lost anything for trying if the outcome is going to be the same and you might even defy the odds.} Not that I really believed that was possible in my case but it really was a point of principle.

{So the fact that you view your failures as something that didn't have to happen and thus all your fault instead of the result of a hopeless situation brings you comfort?} the Yeerk couldn't believe it. {No, I can't and if I don't understand your species after living in you for a year and a half then I think that really says something about the human race and it's not good.}

A car honked behind me and the Yeerk automatically turned around to look at it. My dad was pulling up behind me. "Need a ride?"

The Yeerk grinned. "Absolutely." As it happened, he seemed to get some bizarre enjoyment out of the walk to and from school but I hadn't been pleased that the high school was too close for a bus and he did occasionally deign to play the part.

{I don't know what you're talking about, I'm a wonderful actor,} the Yeerk insisted, sounding almost offended. As if he _really_ cared what I thought.

{When you can be bothered,} I muttered as the Yeerk climbed into the passenger seat and put my books in the backseat.

{I don't see anyone _else_ complaining,} the Yeerk sniffed. {Well…except for Jake sometimes but I'm pretty sure that that has nothing to do with me. I'm really starting to think that there's just something wrong with that boy. He is _never_ happy and he doesn't even have any problems.}

{Of course he has problems,} I snapped, always quick to defend my little brother. {Everyone has problems and there is nothing wrong with him.}

{Continue to live in denial if you wish,} the Yeerk said indifferently. {It makes no difference to me. And I meant _real_ problems. Even you have those even if you dwell on them far too much.}

How I was supposed to do anything besides 'dwelling' given the nature of my _problems_ is beyond me.

"So what are you doing over in this part of town?" the Yeerk asked. "You're normally at work for at least another two hours."

My dad frowned at that. "I had actually been on my way to take your mother to the airport but the traffic was awful and so she just called me to say that she got a cab instead. There didn't seem much point in going back to work and so I was going to head home and I knew you'd kill me if I just drove right past you without even offering you a lift."

"Well, maybe just a _little_," the Yeerk joked. "Wait…why did Mom have to go to the airport? She didn't mention anything about that to me. This isn't going to be one of those 'Tom, if you want to know what's going on, be around when we're discussing them' things, is it?"

My dad shook his head tiredly. "If only. Your mother actually didn't plan on going anywhere until she got the call an hour ago."

This was starting to worry me now. Why was my dad beating around the bush? If my mom was going to the airport then it probably wasn't Jake and it couldn't be my dad since he was right here in front of me. My immediate family's always my biggest concern when something bad happens but that doesn't mean that there isn't plenty else that could have gone wrong.

The Yeerk noticed it, too. {Oh, honestly. I already don't care and now I'm going to have to put some work into figuring out what it is?}

"Dad, what happened?" the Yeerk asked urgently.

My dad sighed. "It's your Grandpa G, son. He's dead."

That rocked me. The thing is, Grandpa G lives like eight hours away. I hadn't seen him since before I got infested and I hadn't really ever expected to see him again. He hated travelling and he lived too far away to justify driving up there and back for a visit short enough to keep the Yeerk in me alive. Just the same, his distance and the fact that he was in his seventies meant that he was also someone that I had thought was reasonably safe from the Yeerks. Sure once – _if_ – they take over they would have infested or, more likely, killed him but he was in far less danger than the people here in Santa Barbara. And now he was dead and it had nothing to do with the Yeerks or any of this.

{No, you were right the first time,} the Yeerk corrected me absently as he went through the motions of appearing shocked and grieved. {Once we take over.}

"H-how did it happen?" the Yeerk asked, my voice shaking. "I mean, it's all so sudden and…"

"His heart failed while he was making breakfast," my dad explained. "His housekeeper didn't find him until a few hours later."

I didn't like the thought of Grandpa G dying alone and then just lying there on the floor or the chair or whatever for hours on end, just waiting for someone to discover him. I've seen dead bodies before but that was usually after watching them die (and not for long with the Taxxons about) and never unexpected. Just thinking of showing up someplace to do something and then unexpectedly finding a corpse…it was chilling.

{The man was ancient,} the Yeerk said impatiently. {And it's not like it sounds like he suffered, either, so get over it.}

I suppose it's true that there are worse deaths. Just the same, my great-grandfather is dead. My family is a little smaller and I don't like that.

The Yeerk groaned. {Just how long do you intend to angst about this?}

{I'm not angsting,} I argued. {This is a perfectly normal reaction to finding out that someone I loved died no matter _how_ old he was or how peaceful the death.}

{So you say…} the Yeerk murmured. "That's horrible. So Mom went down to put his affairs in order or whatever?"

My dad nodded. "Your grandparents are also flying in. Unfortunately, airfare is a little expensive and we won't be able to leave until probably Saturday anyway so we're going to be driving up. I'd bring a book, if I were you. And a pillow. I don't know about you but whenever I can convince your mother to drive and fall asleep in the car, my back and neck end up killing me."

{Great, so I'm going to be forced to waste hours upon hours on an absurd human tradition,} the Yeerk complained. {And I don't even _like_ human literature! Well, except-wait. Wait, wait, wait. _This_ Saturday?}

{It sounds like it,} I confirmed. I knew why he was upset; the others would not be pleased to hear that he had to bail on them this weekend. {I'd wish you luck getting out of this but you know I wouldn't mean it.}

{Am I this unsupportive of you?} the Yeerk demanded.

{Yes,} I replied promptly. {Always.}

"Dad, by 'Saturday' you don't mean _this_ Saturday, do you?" the Yeerk asked nervously.

"Of course I do," my dad answered, surprised. "You don't really think we can just wait a week and a half to hold the funeral, do you?"

"I'm sure that we _could_," the Yeerk told him. "You know, I really wish that I could make it to the funeral. Grandpa G really meant a lot to me but I just can't go this weekend."

I could practically feel the temperature in the car drop.

{You don't think this is going to be difficult, do you?} the Yeerk asked suddenly.

{Let me put it this way: remember what you said about not understanding why humans embark on hopeless tasks?} I asked rhetorically. {Well, this is one of them.}

{Your father can't possibly be _that_ unreasonable, human or not,} the Yeerk protested.

{Who's being unreasonable? He doesn't know about you and Grandpa G was family. What would be unreasonable if letting me stay home because I wanted to hang out with my friends which is pretty much going to be what your excuse is,} I pointed out.

{Whose side are you even on?} the Yeerk asked, annoyed.

{Whichever side you _aren't_,} I said matter-of-factly.

"Tom, are you trying to tell me that there is something going on that's more important than honoring your great-grandfather and attending his funeral?" my dad asked slowly, warningly. "This is your last chance to say goodbye and it's really a family affair."

"I know, Dad, I know! It's just…this weekend is _really_ bad timing," the Yeerk said apologetically.

"Well I'm sorry that your Grandpa G couldn't have managed to die around your busy schedule," my dad said frostily. "I guess some people are just selfish that way."

The Yeerk actually winced. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean it?" my dad demanded.

"I just…I'm involved with the planning for the new community center the Sharing's building, Dad," the Yeerk explained, for once being honest with him although I doubt my dad appreciated or was even aware of the distinction. "We're supposed to get a lot of work done this weekend and I really can't miss it. They're _counting _on me. I made a _commitment_."

My dad's frown deepened. "And normally that might be enough but this is your great-grandfather's funeral we're talking about! It's not a social visit and no commitment you could possibly make to your friends down at the Sharing is more important than this."

We pulled into the driveway. "Oh, you're so sure of that, are you?" the Yeerk asked bitterly as he jumped out of the car practically before it stopped, barely pausing long enough to grab my books.

"As a matter of fact, I am," my dad confirmed as he followed me to the front door. "Whatever it is you need to do, you can reschedule. We need you up at the lake this weekend and that is nonnegotiable."

{Right, because the others will be oh so impressed when I tell them that not only will my time be limited by host commitment but I won't be able to help at _all_ because an old human died and everyone has to make a big production out of it,} the Yeerk griped.

{Complaining about it won't help,} I told him, wishing that he would just hurry up and concede the argument so that we'd go somewhere quieter and I'd have time to start mourning Grandpa G.

{It might, actually,} the Yeerk mused. {How important could this possibly be to him? I have a few days. If I keep at it, he might decide that it's more trouble than it's worth and just let me stay here. I could have the house to myself! Imagine all the peace I'd get from not having to pretend to be you.}

{My dad's not a Yeerk and he's not going to just give in because you're persistent,} I disagreed. {And speaking of people not acting their species, it seems that once again you're going the human route of choosing to fight a losing battle.}

{Sorry,} the Yeerk faux-apologized. {I couldn't hear you over the sound of the non-losing battle I'm fighting.}

{You wouldn't _hear_ me anyway,} I pointed out. {We're communicating telepathically.}

Unsurprisingly, the Yeerk chose to ignore that as he threw open the door. "And I'm telling you, Dad, I can't go!"

Note: And…that's where it picks up in #31.

Review Please!


	25. Beautiful, Tragic Romance

Beautiful, Tragic Romance

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I went over to Cassie's barn after school that day. We didn't really have anything planned and for once I wasn't hopelessly behind on my homework. I'll tell you, I spend more lunch periods and bus rides trying to play catch-up so I can pass my classes than I feel comfortable admitting to and definitely more than my parents will _ever_ find out.

Speaking of my parents, I think I was supposed to do the dishwasher before I left. It's one of my daily chores and I'll do it when they remind me but they seem to think that they shouldn't have to, that I should just remember. In the old days I probably would have but then in the old days my biggest problem was not making the basketball team. Hm. Come to think of it, did that really count as the old days? The only reason I wanted that so badly was because things were weird with Tom which I now know means that he was a Controller. Tom being a Controller was most assuredly NOT part of the good old days.

Well, before _I_ got involved I would have remembered, at any rate. It's just now I've got so much to do that I barely find time to _sleep_, let alone remember something trivial like that. They can either wait until I get home and they remind me to do it or they can do it themselves if it's that important.

Today, the Yeerks don't appear to be plotting anything particularly nefarious and so it was alright to take a day off. We haven't had one of those in awhile and I knew how I wanted to spend it, even if it did mean mucking out Cassie's barn. Besides, I was getting to be quite good at it and the more I helped Cassie the sooner she'd be done and the sooner we could do something else.

To my disappointment, Rachel and Tobias were already there when I arrived. It's not like I didn't like spending time with them outside of the Animorphs, it's just that it seemed a bit…crowded. Still, I said hi and we all talked for a bit. Cassie was trying to get Rachel to help out with her chores but Rachel refused to let us see once and for all whether she'd still look like she stepped off the cover of a magazine after cleaning out the stables. We tried to have a bet on it once but aside from the fact that Rachel never gives us an opportunity to test it, no one was actually willing to bet that she wouldn't.

After ten minutes or so, Tobias mentioned something about how he and Rachel had made plans to go flying and the pair took off.

Cassie watched them go wistfully. "They really love each other, don't they?"

Was that a rhetorical question? Even if it was, I had to say something to keep the conversation rolling. "I guess they do." We had all seen Tobias and Rachel coming a mile away even without Marco teasing them about it every other time they spoke to each other in our presence. I wonder if it's weird that they're more open about their relationship than Cassie and I are despite their…relational difficulties.

I don't know. Cassie and I know how we feel; does it really matter if we don't announce it to the world? Marco - and sometimes Rachel - does that quite enough for us as it is.

"And they're good for each other," Cassie continued. "Tobias needs someone like Rachel to remind him he's human sometimes and I think Rachel needs Tobias to do the same."

"I guess so," I agreed, a little uncomfortable. Those weeks Marco had a crush on Rachel back before all of this started – which I was sworn to secrecy about on pain of death – were all I had ever wanted to think about my cousin's love life. The reminder that Rachel was really starting to scare us lately and that Tobias thought of himself more as a bird than a boy really wasn't helping me enjoy my time off.

"But in a way…in a way that's not a good thing, is it?" Cassie continued slowly, like she was trying to sort out her thoughts.

That surprised me. "What do you mean? You just said that they're good for each other."

"And I stand by that," Cassie said, nodding. "But they really depend on each other and that's dangerous. Jake, doing what we do, any one of us could die at any moment. We've all been there. You died once, Marco was technically dead once, and the rest of us have all had to morph back while unconscious at least once. What do you think is going to happen to Tobias if he loses Rachel or Rachel if she loses Tobias?"

I don't like thinking about losing my friends. Unlike Cassie, I had watched them _all_ die. That time with the Sario Rip…it may not have happened but it was a fluke that allowed me a chance to fix my mistake. Sure it was a fluke in the first place that we ended up a day in the past in South America but if I hadn't somehow found myself torn between two realities (which Ax, thanks to the fact he paid no more attention in school than we do, is no help explaining) then we would all be dead and the Yeerks would have won. The others never did understand why I changed my mind at the last minute but I think it's better that way. It leaves less room for them to doubt me and a leader must never be doubted, however much he probably should be. My own death, both of them, had been easy for me to handle. One moment I was there and the next I was safe.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Rachel won't react well, I expect. She'll make everyone even remotely involved die." She might end up risking exposure but though I did need to worry about things like that, I didn't think Cassie really needed to hear that.

Cassie nodded. "Yeah. Tobias won't handle it any better. He'd finish out the war but he'd never be the same. He'd just retreat into the hawk even more."

"We'd better hope that that never happens, then," I told her. "Really, we can't afford to lose anyone." Who knows how long our perfect (well, almost depending on if you counted the times we 'got better') record will last? Not forever, certainly.

"I look at them and I see a beautiful, tragic romance," Cassie confessed. "You have no idea how much I want them to have a happy ending but…I just can't see it. I try and I try but I just can't do it. And that worries me."

There's no such thing as a happy ending. You can have a happy beginning and plenty of happy in-between times but in the end everything ends in death. God, when did I become such a cynic? It's like I'm turning into Marco. "You don't think they'll stay together after the war?"

After the war. It's so hard to believe such a thing really exists. I know we can't keep stalling the Yeerks forever but unless we win then the war will never _really_ be over. It certainly didn't end in that nightmare world I saw.

"I have a hard time imagining a post-war for them," Cassie replied, biting her lip. "I know what I want to do with my life, or about as well as anyone does at my age. I want to be a vet. Maybe I'll be able to use my experience with the war to help people. I'd like that. Ax will go home to his people and finally step out of Elfangor's shadow. I don't know if he'll ever fit in with them, exactly, but he'll be home."

"Marco will be okay," I predicted. "He's Marco. He'll _always_ be okay. I'm not quite sure what I'll do. Probably go to college somewhere and drive my parents crazy changing my major twice a semester."

Cassie laughed. "Hopefully they'll give out scholarships for saving the world or you'll quickly see just how far you can push their gratitude."

"You don't see anything for Rachel and Tobias?" I asked her. I wasn't sure what they'd do, either. It's a long ways off, if that day will ever come, but I can't help but worry.

Cassie shook her head. "No. Will Tobias finally become human? He seems happier as a hawk, sometimes, but he'll no longer have the war as a reason not to make the change. Would Rachel be able to deal with that? And Rachel herself. What happens to her once the killing and the bloodlust is over? What could she possibly find in civilian life that even compares? Extreme sports?"

My lips twitched upwards. "Now _there's_ an idea. She'll just have to be careful if she decides to wrestle an alligator or something."

Cassie tilted her head. "I thought it was a crocodile."

"I'm nearly positive that I really don't care which," I declared. A thought occurred to me. "Cassie…you say you see Rachel and Tobias as a beautiful, tragic romance. What do you see us as?"

"_Not_ that," Cassie said firmly. "I won't let us become that. I…I know that it sounds sort of romantic but it's really a bad idea. Who _really_ wants to be Romeo and Juliet when they could be Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy? Who would really want death and pain when they could have years of real happiness together?"

We had studied Romeo & Juliet in English last year and even though I'd always heard it was some great love story, my teacher swore up and down that it was really about the perils of being young and stupid but teachers were trying to appeal to hormonal teenagers and thus emphasized the love story. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy…I had heard of them - mostly him - but I didn't remember from where. Some movie, I think.

"No one," I replied, "if they're thinking about it rationally. A lot of people don't, especially at our age."

"Well I do," Cassie told me. "What I said about the problems Rachel and Tobias could face because any of us could die holds true for you and me. And it's more than just a might. _I watched you die_. Marco and I knew the minute that the Drode said one of us was going to die that it was going to be you. We were going to protect you. And then…bam. One shot and it was over and there was nothing I could do."

At least when I had watched them die I didn't have much time to worry about it before dying myself. From what I can tell – no one really wants to talk about it – I had died pretty early into that little adventure. Cassie and the others had to deal with losing me for awhile while also trying to put everything back the way it was supposed to be and not a world where I was in the bizarre and frankly horrifying position of being a Jewish Nazi wannabe.

"Cassie, you know that that's always going to be a risk," I said gently. "We're as careful as we can and through some skill and a whole lot of luck we've managed to all come through but…" I trailed off. "What do you want to do?"

Cassie looked me straight in the eye. "I want to survive losing you. Losing you would be the last thing I would ever want and God knows Earth can't take it but if that happens I can't have that destroying me. If it happens, if I can't stop it, if it's real this time… I need to be able to move on. I need you to be able to do the same if it's me."

I wasn't sure that I could. I had chosen an apathetic Yeerk-controlled terrorist Cassie who might not ever need to get the Yeerk to drain out of her head because of what I'd allowed to happen to the moon over the only hope Earth had of _ever_ being free of the Yeerks. What's more, by allowing it to succeed on Earth I knew that it would only be used on other planets to keep everyone enslaved. I _should_ have chosen Earth. I knew it then and I know it now.

I didn't.

"I don't think there's anything that would convince me to stop fighting," I said carefully, noncommittally.

Cassie wasn't fooled. She knows me, you see. "And afterwards?" she pressed.

"Afterwards…Cassie, who even knows what the post-war will look like?" I demanded. "Will the others make it through? Will they be okay? Are we famous? Does everybody love us? Do they think we're war-criminals? Dangerous vigilantes? Are we harrassed by the press? Do the Yeerks ever admit they're here and start blasting things? Is my brother okay? What about my parents? The answer to your question depends on so much."

"I suppose that's true," Cassie conceded. "Pretend that everyone else survived and, with therapy, will be fine. Pretend everyone loves us but doesn't stalk us. I'm dead. How will you react?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair agitatedly. "I'm no good with these sorts of hypotheticals, Cassie. I'd certainly make sure you were really dead before doing anything hasty, I learned that from Romeo. And then…I wouldn't hurt myself. I wouldn't turn to drugs or anything like that. I'd just try to get through it the best I can and I guess maybe one day I would."

Cassie smiled at me, a beautiful sight. "Thank you."

"Most people wouldn't think to thank someone for saying that they'd get over their death," I pointed out.

Cassie shrugged. "I think normality passed us by a long time ago. Given what we do every day…It's a relief to know that if anything does happen, you'll be okay. I think that would be one of the hardest parts of dying, you know: what it will do to the people you leave behind. If I die my parents might never know what happened to me. They'll survive, though. You _will_ know what happened and I just worry you'll blame yourself."

"Only if it's my fault," I promised. Of course, as the leader if she died it _would_ be my fault but there was really no reason to mention that, now was there?

Cassie studied me intently for a moment. "And _that_ is why I like you," she said finally. "A beautiful, tragic romance might be exciting while it lasts and fine for some but I need something a bit more dependable. Rachel would say it's because I don't have a romantic bone in my body but she has her tastes and I have mine."

I managed a small smile despite the less-than-pleasant talk we'd just had. "And that is why they're going to go flying for a few hours and I have to help you do your chores?"

"And that is why they're going to go flying for a few hours and you have to help me do my chores," Cassie confirmed, handing me a pitchfork.

"Is it too late to change my position on that beautiful, tragic romance thing?" I joked.

Cassie laughed. "_Yes._"

Ah, well. Flying is more fun but I don't mind, really. I knew from the beginning what I was getting myself into and I don't regret it for a second.

Review Please!


	26. Meet the Visser

Meet the Visser

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

It's a pretty popular thing to do in TV shows and books to give a bunch of teenagers superpowers and then have them wake up, go to school, and save the world. Sure there are some problems sometimes when friends or crushes get annoyed that you just have to mysteriously vanish and sometimes your secret identity gets blown or dangerously close to it but it all works out in the end. Even if you get exposed in front of everyone, it still somehow ends up not being catastrophic. You may start to drift apart from your classmates but ultimately you continue to be a pretty normal kid when you're not off fighting evil and saving the world.

It's completely ridiculous to be jealous of people who don't even exist but…I knew from the start that my 'adventures' would not be like that. I had to run for my life after watching an alien prince be viciously murdered right in front of me and learning that the only chance Earth had for holding out the year it would take for more Andalites to show up was five middle-school children who could turn into animals. Speaking of, it's been almost two years now from what I've seen of the Andalites not actually related to Elfangor, that's hardly surprising.

No, a real double life is something quite different. It involves lying to everyone you know and living in constant fear of the people that you love and want more than anything to save. It involves running on no sleep more nights than not and slowly losing all your friends who don't fight alongside you. It involves not remembering the people who have gone to school with you for years and never having any idea what's going on in class. It involves disappointing people and not even caring because those mundane issues that have gotten them so upset are barely a blip on your radar anymore. It involves watching your friends put themselves in unspeakable danger time and time again on your order and knowing that one day they won't come back. It involves changing so slowly you don't even realize it until one day you realize you have nothing in common with the people around you anymore and that your friends are going through the same thing. It involves the hard realization that they're beginning to scare you and that it's your fault but you'll keep using them anyway.

It involves attending a Sharing banquet and trying to pretend you don't hate yourself for ordering the one of you that's sacrificed most to submit himself to a torture that we'll never know was necessary or not. In a way, I'm glad we'll never know. I don't think I could face Tobias if he went through whatever he's soon to go through all for nothing.

It's a Sophie's choice, really. We either send in Tobias to convince the Yeerks that the Anti-Morphing Ray doesn't work and hope that they can't do too much damage or outright kill him before we can get to him or we do nothing and hope that it doesn't work because if it does it will be used on us at the most inopportune moment and leave us helpless and human. It's not even a choice, really. Logically, I know that we cannot take this risk. It has to be either Tobias or Ax because if it works then we can't be revealed as human. If it's Ax and it works then he may get infested and doom all of us. If it's Tobias then it won't work and they can't infest a bird.

It has to be him. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it. It's all so perfect and ruthless and Rachel may end up killing me when this is all over.

"So what changed your mind about coming?" Tom asked, startling me out of my thoughts. Right, this may be boring but it's still a Yeerk event and we're about to start one of our riskiest missions yet. Plus, of course, no need to worry my parents or make Tom pay any more attention to me than necessary. "I mean, not that I'm complaining or anything because I'm glad you're here. You just seemed pretty adamant that you weren't going earlier."

I shrugged casually. "Oh, you know. The Sharing's not really my thing but then I started thinking about that award you're getting and I figured I should probably be here as a show of solidarity."

"You could always show your solidarity by actually coming to some of the other meetings," Tom hinted.

My dad laughed. "And right there is why Jake took so long to agree to come, I'm guessing."

"Well I, for one, am glad that he changed his mind," my mom declared. "We may not be very interested in the Sharing but it's important to Tom and it's important for us to be here for his award."

I wondered vaguely why we had thought it was a good idea for Ax to go in human morph. Sure we didn't want anyone but me to actually be seen there but one of the others could have partially morphed someone or something. Ax could have gone fly then and we wouldn't have to deal with him around food. Ax around food is _never_ a good idea and, to my growing horror, he has just discovered the joys of cotton candy. I wonder if the Yeerks did this on purpose to try and trap an Andalite or if they thought we were slightly better than that. Either way, there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't even talk to him in human form.

{Jake, Ax, I'm here,} Tobias said as he arrived on the scene. He sounded far calmer than I would be in his situation. {You look extremely uncomfortable.}

Presumably he was talking to me since Ax was appearing to be having the time of his life. I rolled my eyes and then jerked my head towards Ax, hoping Tobias would get the picture.

As I continued to watch him out of the corner of my eye, I shook my head in a sort of amused exasperation. It was out of my hands now and with any luck the Yeerks would think he was just a disturbed teenager and not a highly-competent Andalite guerilla…if only to save themselves the embarrassment of not being able to beat someone who goes off and does things like that.

There was a man at the podium giving a speech but I really hadn't been paying attention. Even if my friends weren't trying their hardest to blow our cover (they weren't the ones who had to pretend to be oblivious while listening to all of this, either), I really didn't care to listen to the Yeerk's sales pitch.

"Three words encapsulate the Sharing's appeal," the man announced. Encapsulate, how pretentious. I bet I can guess them. 'Enslavement, terror, trauma.' "Opportunity. Involvement. Dedication. Change."

Unless my comprehension of basic kindergarten math is off, that was four. Either this Yeerk is really undermining the Yeerk's 'we are superior to everyone else' mentality or he's trying to be cutesy. I suspect it's the latter although I think I might prefer the former. I rarely talk to Yeerks as Jake-the-faux-Andalite but I still hear enough of their boasting.

"But then, that's just like the Sharing, isn't it?" the man asked rhetorically. "Exceeding expectations." Well, I'll give him that one. It's not exceeding them in a _good_ way but who honestly expects the Sharing to be an evil cult dedicated to 'peacefully' enslaving all of humanity?

It was a little difficult to focus on the speech after that. My normally sensible best friend managed to get himself stuck in the chocolate fondue which coincidentally killed my appetite. I'm choosing to believe he was joking about wanting to see if it still tasted good as a fly. There was a time and place for inane experiments like that and a Yeerk banquet before dealing with the Anti-Morphing Ray was neither. Rachel's safe enough around Ax's cotton candy beard assuming he could resist the temptation to keep eating. Cassie has no idea where she is which I'm not happy about but I suppose that if she were in any immediate danger she'd probably at least know.

"This year's highest honor goes to a young man who moved swiftly to the top of our ranks," the man was _still_ talking. A lot of people weren't listening, though, because Ax's antics were proving too horrifyingly fascinating to look away from. "A devoted member of our community. Ladies and gentleman, let's hear it for Tom Berenson."

As everyone clapped, Tom rose and went to go collect his award. I wondered how they decided these things. Why was Tom chosen to get this all-for-show human award? Did it really matter to the Yeerks who got chosen? I knew that Tom had to be pretty important to the Yeerks given what they had been willing to risk to keep his cover not too long ago. Did that have something to do with it? Was the Yeerk getting important enough that he'd move on soon and there'd be a third Yeerk in my brother's head? Would I even notice if it did happen?

I've slowly come around to the belief that nothing good will come of any mission that has an unfortunate start. Nothing good came of our first mission to the Yeerk pool when Cassie had gone missing. Nothing good came of our attempt to recover a bug fighter after I was late to the convenience store it had crashed into. Nothing good came of meeting Visser Three's psycho twin brother (could he have any other kind?) after we had met him online. Nothing good came from the battle involving oatmeal since it did involve, well, oatmeal. Nothing good came from letting David become one of us after he beat up the team sent to try and recover the morphing cube _before_ it destroyed his life.

This is not one of our more auspicious starts. We haven't even done anything yet and already everyone is getting themselves into trouble (except maybe Cassie but it's possible she's in more trouble than anyone). It's not like we haven't done flies before. It's not like we haven't done flies around food before. I am _this_ close to running screaming for the car but that might actually draw more attention than Ax is.

The others were in the middle of trying to rescue Marco from the strawberry Ax had managed to dip him onto when I saw _him_.

Tobias did, too. {Guys, Visser Three just arrived. In human morph, of course.} That would almost go without saying if it were anyone _but_ Visser Three who the Yeerks had that could morph. For all we knew, Visser Three might see fit to show up in Andalite form and trust his hapless subordinates to kill or infest anyone who happens to spot him. Part of Visser Three's terror is his utter lack of rationality and his disproportionate responses to things.

It's always easy to spot Visser Three in human morph. Even if he switched morphs occasionally, which he never does, there's always something…evil, I guess you could say, about the Visser. He either cannot make even a cursory effort to appear normal or he can't be bothered. They're both equally likely, I think. Visser Three's abnormalities while in human morph (and not in human morph, for that matter) aren't anything like Ax's. Ax stands out because he's still not used to having a mouth even after all this time, though I swear some of it he does on purpose to annoy Marco. Visser Three _acts_ perfectly normal but that inexplicable aura of evil remains.

Visser Three had four guys flanking him, probably security. They each looked like they could make you cry with just a look but they were a lot less menacing than the man they were protecting. It was a little ludicrous that Visser Three even felt that he _needed_ security – and I'm sure it annoyed him, too – but I guess it was in case we attacked in the open and he didn't have time to demorph. The security was doing a passable job of concealing their fear of the man they were supposed to be protecting but I was looking for it and I saw it. Visser Three was likely used to people looking at him that way.

Why was Visser Three even here? Other than the fact that Visser Three is _always_ there, of course. They can't possibly know that they're going to be able to test their new toy which I know the Visser would want to be there for. Nominal leader of the Sharing or not, it's so bizarre to see him actually take an interest in the Yeerks' cover organization given what he thinks about covert invasions.

Visser Three was heading my way. I fought the instinctive urge to panic, to flee, to morph. He didn't know. He _couldn't_ know. If he did, he would have demorphed and turned into a nightmarish creature from a far-off world with no concern whatsoever for the fact that this was an outdoor public event with plenty of witnesses. I saw safe for now. I was actually going to have to talk to Visser Three, wasn't I?

I was not expecting this.

"Hello, I'm Edmund Visser," Visser Three greeted us with a smile that chilled me to the bone. No people skills, this one. "You must be Tom's parents."

My dad nodded. "I'm Steve and this is my wife Jean and my other son, Jake."

I nodded civilly, not trusting myself to speak.

"We're so glad to have Tom in our organization," Visser Three told my parents, patting Tom on the shoulder and causing him to squirm a little. Even his own people didn't like to have anything to do with him. "He's such a hard-working young man and he's going to go places."

My mom beamed. "We're so proud of him."

Tom smiled at their praise and I concentrated on just breathing and ignoring the fact that Visser Three (whose fault it was that Tom was a controller in the first place) was basically telling us that Tom was a good host body for a Yeerk that was going places. Visser Three really didn't care about this and he'd move on soon enough.

Or maybe not _quite_ soon enough.

A fly buzzed past the Visser's ear and he immediately swatted at it.

Rachel and Marco were accounted for. Had I just found Cassie? Please let her be alright. Losing her to _this_…well, I would not handle that well. If one of us is going to die, God forbid, and _stay_ dead then it had better be in battle and not because we got lost.

{Cassie! Was that you?} Tobias screamed, evidently sharing my concerns.

I didn't blink as I watched the Visser closer than I had ever watched him before. Had he hit it? Was it even Cassie?

{I'm okay,} Cassie assured us. {Missed me. Fly reflexes. Very cool. It was close, though.}

I'm the only one of us that's ever been swatted so I'm the only one who can really appreciate what that would have meant. What happened still gets me a little apprehensive about morphing fly but it's far too useful to stay away from. If the Visser had succeeded in getting Cassie, there would have been no miraculous rescue like the others did for me. She would have just died there, died a fly right in front of me and I wouldn't have been able to react at all.

Get out of there, Cassie.

"A fly!" the Visser snapped to his guards. "A fly!"

The guards bounded forward as if the very normal presence of a fly at an outdoor banquet was proof of an attack. Visser Three either has a freakish ability to tell when we're near or he must drive his people crazy speculating when we aren't.

Cassie landed on my forehead. While that would normally be a fairly safe place to be as I was the one person guaranteed not to swat at her, now was hardly the time. Now Visser Three and his minions were starting at me intently. I didn't know what they were planning on doing but I was _not_ letting them near Cassie. What could they do with all these witnesses, anyway? Visser Three was at least making an effort not to accuse Cassie of being an Andalite so this wasn't deemed a big enough deal for the Visser to threaten the masquerade.

{Where am I?} Cassie wondered. {I'm not sure.} If she really doesn't know then she just has some impressive luck. Or, I suppose, her amazing instincts are paying off yet again.

"Such filthy insects," the Visser said absently as he leapt forward, swinging at Cassie. "Allow me to…"

He trailed off as my arm shot up and grabbed his, stopping it inches from my face. I was actually touching Visser Three. This didn't happen a lot and certainly not in a noncombat situation. Visser Three glared down at me for daring to stop him and I felt secure enough in the fact that the Visser had just attempted to assault me to glare back at him. This may well be the first time the Visser has ever seen the real me and I might have known it would go poorly. He was the leader of the Yeerk forces while I was the leader of the human resistance. He didn't know that but this could hardly be the case and have us get along, now could it?

Visser Three didn't look like he was planning on letting go anytime soon and God knew I wouldn't back off until Cassie was gone. Did she even realize she was in danger?

{Cassie? MOVE!} Thank God for Tobias.

Cassie buzzed down into my shirt pocket. With any luck, the Visser would not feel the need to reach across the table and try to grab her from there. If he did, that would certainly be enough of a reason to give my parents for leaving the banquet and for turning the Sharing down the next fifty or so times Tom asks me about it.

Slowly, deliberately I released the Visser's hand. I forced a 'no-hard-feelings' smile at him and hoped he wasn't about to do something stupid.

He didn't. He merely returned my smile with one of his own. He clearly didn't mean it but neither did I. It was just something we had to do for the sake of appearances.

"I hope I didn't scare you," Visser Three told me, not managing to sound even vaguely sincere.

Due to our policy of limited communication even from Ax, this was one of the first things I've ever said to the Visser. It was the very first thing I'd ever say to him as a human (unless you're counting what I had started to shout at him after he ate Elfangor, which I don't) and so I'd need to make it good. I knew exactly what to say. "I don't scare easy."

Cassie assured the others that she was, in fact, safe as Visser Three moved on, casting one last contemptuous look at me over his shoulder.

I counted to ten before I leaned over to my parents. "Well, that was fun."

"Geez, Midget, couldn't you have just let him swat the stupid fly?" Tom demanded.

"It was on my forehead," I said as if that explained everything. If it were just some random guy and some random fly, it really would have. "Listen, I'm going to go get some air, okay?"

My mom nodded. "That's fine. Just make sure to be back before we leave so we don't have to go looking for you."

"That's okay, I can walk home," I told them. "I already saw the award so I won't miss much."

"Be safe," my dad told me.

I nodded vaguely at them – having no intention of doing so, of course – and headed straight for Ax.

This was not acceptable. We hadn't even done anything yet and already Marco and Cassie had nearly gotten themselves killed, Ax and possibly Tobias had drawn attention to themselves, and Visser Three and I had actually spoken. Why was _Rachel_ turning into the sensible one? We needed to get this under control. I know that this is the last thing any of us want to do but we agreed to it and until we deal with this we won't be able to safely do any other missions.

I grabbed him firmly by the arm. "Tell the others enough messing around. Let's do what we came here to do."

Review Please!


	27. Fratricide

Fratricide

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: Not an easy chapter to write…

_Then I saw it: Of course. I'd been looking at nothing but tactics; I'd overlooked emotion. The emotion of a vengeful Yeerk. He despised Visser One for being a failure, for being a brute, for refusing to promote him. "As long as..." Tom had started to say. Yes, Visser One was not the only person Tom's Yeerk hated. Someone else was to blame for forcing this choice on an ambitious Yeerk. Me. My friends. We werer responsible for forcing this choice on Tom's Yeerk. In frustrating Visser One we had doomed Tom's Yeerk. That was why Tom's Yeerk didn't ask for any reassurances for us. He expected us to be dead. He wouold kill Visser One and us and sail off across the galaxy in the Blade ship with the morphing cube in his hands. _

_It came to me all at once that I could beat him. Use him and beat him. One of those rare, perefct moments when a dozen nagging questions, an infinity of details, simply fall perfectly into place and form a single clear picture. It took my breath away. The perfection of it all. The pure, ruthless perfection of it all. All I had to do was send my friends to die..._

_Tom waved good-bye. "If you are there by some chance, little brother Jake, bye-bye!" _

_I saw it all from inside the illusion, for illusion it was. "Cassie" was Erek, the Chee. Tom had betrayed us, as I knew he would. He believed we were hiding on the true Cassie. He believed he had beaten the true Cassie, and that she had submitted in order to make her capture seem real. He believed he had now fed her, and me, and all of us to the hunger-mad Taxxon. But the Taxxon was no more a Taxxon than "Cassie" was the real Cassie. _

-Animorphs #53.

My brother is dead.

This is all my fault.

Normally the Yeerk in my head would be laughing at my misery and I know that later he'll be gloating over Jake's death but right now he's too busy putting the final touches on his plan to destroy the Visser before escaping and leaving the weakened Yeerk Empire and the entire human race at the mercy of the Andalite fleet.

According to Visser One – who would really know better than anyone – the Andalites took what happened when the Yeerks managed to escape their planet to mean that mercy and, in fact, anything short of almost gratuitous ruthlessness was unacceptable. Their policies and protocols in recent times have led him to believe that the Andalites won't save Earth.

They won't even try.

If the Andalites beat the Yeerk fleet (which they will do since the Yeerk in my head has the Blade Ship) then they will make sure that the Yeerk threat on Earth is wiped out. Completely. This will also spell the doom for the entire human race and for every other living thing on the planet.

That should mean something to me. My parents are down there and the last I had heard they were still alive. That was before the explosion, of course. The rest of my family and the people who used to be my friends are down there and some of them even live out of state making it highly probable that they don't even have a clear idea of what's going on. When the Andalites come, they will all die. It's better than making them Controllers but it's a horrible situation all the same.

I should care. This is the end of the world. This is the second-worst-case scenario (the first being the Yeerks' victory, of course). Everything I have ever known will be completely gone at the whim of that thing that's been living in my head for the past three years. I myself will go off in the Blade Ship with less hope of escape than I have ever had and since we found out about Jake, the security surrounding me at the Yeerk Pool has been almost overwhelming.

The Yeerk will take care to make sure that I'm kept around for a good, long time, as a trophy of his final victory over Jake if nothing else. I'll be party to the subjugation of new species that I've never heard of and who have never heard of the Yeerks but who will become the new Hork-Bajir and Taxxons. I'll witness firsthand the rise of the new Yeerk Empire and with the Blade Ship, better bodies than Gedds, and morphing technology it will be all the easier for them this time.

The rest of my life be worse than anything I've ever seen before and I likely cannot imagine the horrors it will contain. It will probably last for decades and I should care but I don't. I can't.

All I can see is that hate-filled look Jake gave me before he morphed into an insect and hid on his broken girlfriend. All I can hear is my own voice betraying him by suggesting that the Visser have Jake killed and mocking him as he was eaten alive.

Jake is dead and everything else – _everything_ else – pales in comparison. Nothing seems real. This can't have happened but it did and it's all my fault.

For as far back as I can remember, it's been my job to protect Jake and the kid always looked up to me. Other guys may have pounded on their little brothers but I never could have done that to him. When I got infested…I don't even have the words to describe it. But the worst part was _always_ the fear that it would happen to Jake one day and that it would be my fault.

If I hadn't been so stupid, if I had just listened to Matt – or rather, his Yeerk – and not gone chasing after Rose and Christopher. Hell, if I had just _knocked_ before I went in there Visser Three would have had a chance to morph and I wouldn't have seen anything. I refuse to consider the possibility that if I hadn't seen anything I would have agreed to become a full member of my own free will. I've sat in on some of those sessions with the people that the Yeerk convinced to become members. If nothing else, they don't tell you anything until you sit in a chair and allow yourself to be shackled to it and I probably would have balked at that part. I _know_ that when they told me about the Yeerks I would have said no. They would have done it anyway but I wouldn't have been taken voluntarily under _any _circumstances.

Jake really worried me a few years back when he actually expressed an interest in the Sharing and even seemed to enjoy it. I didn't think anything would come of it but I had to at least try to warn him. I didn't manage to do much more than twitch but now that I know about the Animorphs I know that that would have been enough. Jake must have learned about the Yeerks from Elfangor; he was one of those kids in the construction site that night. No one really thought that Elfangor would have given them the power to morph and that kept him safe – or as safe as he could be under the circumstances – for years. Jake was likely at the Sharing to gather information and I may have played some part in him realizing what the Sharing really was. They weren't exactly subtle after Elfangor's death and if Jake had actually spoken to Elfangor instead of just watching the execution, which is what the Yeerks thought at the time, it wouldn't have been hard to make the connection.

Jake almost freed me two nights later and I saved his life by distracting the Visser. I'm glad I was able to do that, even if I did also kill him earlier today.

I thought for sure that he was going to die because of me that night of the attempted drive-by shooting right before Grandpa G's funeral. I was even more worried for my father since he was the actual target and that wasn't the only plot to kill him. I thought it was a miracle that we all survived that week (yes, even the Yeerk since that kept my family safe) but now I think it must have been Jake. Same difference, really.

I was so angry with him when I found out the truth about him. Jake had to have found out about me, at the very latest, at the Yeerk Pool that night. With the way he kept demanding to know what I was doing earlier that evening, he probably already knew and that's why he went then. He went from trying to save me to completely ignoring what I was going through for three years.

I really don't think I was being unreasonable. When Jake first found out, he might not have had the resources to hide me while the Yeerk died and then after it was gone plus he'd need to cover up what happened so the Yeerks wouldn't come after him and our parents. It's been three years since then, though. Jake has managed to hide an entire colony of free Hork-Bajir – and then re-hide them! – and to appear to be at home while he's really off on extended missions. I think he could have managed to work _something_ out but he never did and I will never know why.

The Yeerk insists that my little brother doesn't care anymore and I don't want to believe him but Jake really didn't give me much to work with.

One thing I _never_ blamed him for was what happened with Mom and Dad. I saw Jake on the lawn that day with all our luggage. He was going to save them and finally do something about me. He just got there too late and that was a tragic mistake instead of something to rail against him for. Besides, I already had three years of reasons to do that. It wouldn't have happened had he done something about me sooner but I couldn't blame Jake for everything. The Yeerks were the ones doing all of this to us, Jake was just allowing it to happen and if he's still anything like I remember then he hates himself for it. Hated himself.

I know that I hate myself for it. The reason that they found out about Jake was because they found a match in my blood. The reason they were able to take my parents was because the Yeerk in my head lured them into a trap. I had always feared the day that I woud be the one to destroy my family but I never expected to be so resentful towards the one person who got away. The one person who had lost everything because of me.

I actually did end up pounding on him the next time I saw him. The Yeerk made that decision but I didn't entirely disagree with it. Had the decision been mine I never would have actually acted on that impulse but then, if the decision had been mine then I wouldn't have wanted to in the first place. I had spent years begging the Yeerk to leave Jake alone and he had spent years all but ignoring my enslavement. It's an unbelievable, unbearable betrayal and the pain didn't fade as more time passed. I started to think that it never would.

I saw Jake twice more after that and he was so impassive during those first two encounters. He probably just didn't want to show weakness in front of the enemy – I hate that I'm the enemy – but it was still hard to watch. The third time he was so angry right up until he died.

I still can't believe he allowed Cassie to be sacrificed like that. Even had he thought the deal would be kept and Cassie would be able to heal herself by morphing (which he must have thought or he wouldn't have gone through with it) then she was still brutally tortured for quite a few hours. And this is Jake's _girlfriend_. How had he changed so much and I hadn't even noticed? I had tried so hard to warn him both in the car and back in the tunnel. The Yeerk's hold on me had never been so tight. I had failed. Everyone knows that if the need is great enough than the host can break through for a few seconds but my need had never been greater and I might as well not have even bothered.

It doesn't matter now, of course, because Jake is dead. If it hadn't been for the fact that the Yeerk was in me and thus had to face the Visser's wrath when we learned about Jake then he wouldn't have been pushed so far and decided to just start over and he certainly wouldn't have been so hell-bent on taking Jake out before he left. If the Yeerk had been in literally anyone else and had decided that the Yeerk Empire had to go then he might have even kept his promise. If the Yeerk had been in anyone else – except our parents, of course – then Jake wouldn't have let him finish explaining what he wanted. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that the Yeerk was in me then one of his fellow Animorphs wouldn't have stopped Jake for doing what it took to retrieve the morphing cube.

Jake had listened because it was me and he had trusted the Yeerk and now he was dead. Those cold eyes and bitter words hadn't been meant for me but they'd stay with me always. They were my last memories of Jake. I wonder how long it will be before I can think of him without remembering that. I wonder if I'll ever manage it.

I wasn't angry with him anymore. I had been angry up until I had realized what the Yeerk was planning and then I'd been terrified. And now…now I was just numb.

Sixteen or seventeen thousand Yeerks were flushed into space. I should be…I don't know. Happy? Sad? Horrified? Name an emotion and I'm not feeling it. A million is a statistic and my brother is dead.

The Yeerk was taunting the Visser about how he had won but seeing the once mighty Visser brought low meant nothing to me. If it had been under different circumstances but as it was…the viewscreen widened.

There was a tiger standing near the Visser.

A tiger.

It might have been anyone. It might have even been a Controller. There was no reason to think it was but…it was a _tiger_.

They've always been my favorite animal.

The Yeerk apparently shared my realization because he staggered back as if he'd been struck. "You're not dead!"

Jake is not dead. My brother is not dead. He's not dead and I didn't kill him because he's not dead.

I had no idea how this was even possible but this is the best news I could have ever gotten. It doesn't even matter what happens now because _Jake is not dead_.

{Oh, shut up,} the Yeerk snapped, panicked, despite the fact I hadn't said anything.

"Bring us around to target the Pool Ship's bridge! Do it! Now! Now! Bring us around!" the Yeerk shouted, not even sounding remotely calm.

Jake might have managed to outsmart the Yeerk and somehow take the Pool Ship (guess his Andalite could break the codes in fifteen minutes after all) but he wasn't out of danger yet. The Yeerk was going to kill him with the Blade Ship. Kill him _again_ after he didn't die the last time.

I don't think I can watch him die a second time. The first time damn near killed me and I hadn't even been able to see anyone but Cassie being eaten. Was she dead? It didn't really matter to me but it would to Jake so I hoped she wasn't although I didn't see how. Then again, I didn't see how Jake was and yet he was clearly fine. Probably. He hadn't said anything but I think the Visser confirmed it.

There was nothing I could do but Jake _couldn't_ die again. He just couldn't.

"Animorph!" Someone shouted suddenly.

Another miracle.

The Yeerk spun just in time for me to see my cousin Rachel's long blonde hair disappearing into a grizzly bear's skull.

The other Yeerks on the bridge, I knew, weren't really comfortable with killing the Yeerks on the Pool Ship even if most of them had been flushed out already and they wouldn't blink at killing the Animorphs. They'd go along with the massacre because the Yeerk in my head was in charge but if it was up to them then they'd just leave. If the Yeerk in my head was dead – if _I_ was dead – then they'd just leave.

Jake couldn't know for certain that it would play out that way but if he sent Rachel then at the very least he'd need my Yeerk out of the way. How was one lone Animorph to pull that off? Killing me, of course. Even had things been different and I could be knocked out so the Yeerk couldn't morph and try to fight them, the Yeerk itself was capable of morphing and if he was feeling particularly spiteful he could have morphed right then and killed us both.

Jake had sent Rachel to kill me.

I hadn't actually thought he'd do that and the Yeerk hadn't either. I wondered if that proved that he didn't care. It's not like he's doing this under normal circumstances, though, and I have to remember that. The Yeerk hadn't left him any other option and if I didn't die then Jake and the others would die and then the Andalites would destroy everything.

I needed to die to save the human race. There are worse deaths.

The Yeerk is morphing now but I couldn't care less. It won't work. We're going to die.

Now that it looks like they'll win after all I wonder if I should be upset that I'm going to die mere hours before victory, maybe less. I can't manage to work up any anger, though, not when Jake's alive and when the future I had thought I was facing is infinitely worse than death here will be. Not when I may be the only one on this ship to avoid that fate because Rachel can't kill us all. She can't save us all.

I doubt she'll survive this fight. In fact, I hope she doesn't. I don't want my cousin to die but survival on a Yeerk-held vessel means infestation and Rachel deserves better.

I wonder if this will kill Jake as much as thinking he was dead had killed me. I hope it won't but since Rachel will die as well I think it's almost inevitable. At least he'll be alive, though, and at least our parents will be there for him. God, let them still be alive. Don't let Jake go through the post-war alone.

I wish I could be there for him when it's all over but I can't. I wish I could even reassure him that it's okay what he's doing and that, despite my initial reaction, I was insanely proud of him and that I loved him. I wish that I could see him human again so my last memory of him wouldn't be of his hatred. I wish that I could die in my own body instead of that of a snake.

I believe that part of the reason that Jake's having me killed is to save me from a lifetime of enslavement and that's enough.

It really is okay what's happening. Things could have worked out better but they could have also worked out so much worse. This is a miracle and I feel strangely elated, despite the fact that Rachel just bit down on me.

I've been waiting for this moment – not this exact moment, of course, but my freedom in death – for years. I wish that so many things could have been different but just the same…it's about damn time.

Review Please!


	28. Color Blind Tongues

Color-Blind Tongues

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_But ever since their friendship began, they've been arguing with each other about the most completely idiotic things in the universe: whether you should use more pedal or higher gears to win this dumb driving video game they love; whether Spiderman could beat Batman; whether basketball takes more teamwork than football; whether cheese tastes yellow. _

_I'm **not** kidding. They once spent an entire Saturday arguing over whether something could taste like a color. I seem to remember that Marco thought cheese actually tasted green. _

-Animorphs #14.

There are times when I seriously worry about my best friend. I mean, I know it takes a special kind of crazy to sign on with four other clueless kids to fight a reasonably competent alien invasion and yet sometimes he pushes far past what even I'd consider normal crazy.

"Hey Jake, what color do you think this cheese tastes like?" Marco asked me, popping one of the cheddar cheese cubes in front of him into his mouth.

I blinked, unsure that I had heard right. "What?"

"What color do you think this cheese tastes like?" Marco repeated patiently.

"Marco, things can't taste like a color," I told him, eyeing him strangely. Had we taken on one too many missions and he'd finally cracked up? I really wish he had chosen someplace that wasn't my house to do so because my house was the most risky even in the best of times.

"If you're going to be narrow-minded then clearly there's no point in having this conversation with you," Marco said, shaking his head pitying like _I_ was the one acting weird.

"Marco, the only time I ever heard of someone hearing colors – or tasting them, I guess – was in science class. It was…oh, what was it…" I trailed off, trying to remember. I snapped my fingers when it came to me. "Synesthesia. Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Yes, Jake," Marco said, suddenly serious. "I love you."

I rolled my eyes and threw a cheese cube at him. "Very funny."

Marco deftly caught it and popped it into his mouth. "I thought so. But seriously, haven't you ever thought about it?"

"Synesthesia?" I asked.

Marco shook his head. "No, what color things taste like."

"I can honestly say that it's never crossed my mind," I said honestly.

"Jake, that's because you're practically a forty-year-old," Marco explained patiently. "And I do mean that in the nicest way possible."

"I look old enough to drink?" I offered.

"No, you have no fun," Marco complained.

"If I have no fun then clearly you're failing in your duties as best friend," I declared. "What do I keep you around for, anyway?"

"Jake, please, you know that there's only so much that even one such as I can do," Marco said defensively, holding up his hands. "I'm not _quite_ a miracle worker. I mean, I can see how you'd get confused but…"

"Well here's your chance to make up for that right now," I invited. "By all means, enlighten me. How can a food taste like a color?"

"Alright," Marco nodded. "I accept your challenge."

"It's not exactly a _challenge-_" I tried to say.

"Yes, yes it is," Marco disagreed. "Now, let's start with an easy one. What would you do if your ketchup was blue?"

Marco knows how I feel about blue food. Unless that food happens to be blueberries than something is seriously wrong. "I would go without ketchup."

Marco nodded as if he'd expected that. "Right. And blue bread?"

I wrinkled my nose. "That's probably moldy so I'd throw it out."

"Blue cheese? Remember, that gets its color from mold," Marco reminded me.

"I think it's safe to say that I don't like eating mold in general and that you're really turning me off of this cheese," I said, eyeing the plate ruefully.

Marco shrugged. "More for me. So you don't think that food should be blue. Why is that?"

"Because it usually means mold," I answered promptly.

Marco rolled his eyes as if to say 'fine, be that way.' "What about orange, then? What would you do with orange milk? Orange apples? Green popcorn? Green eggs and ham?"

"Who am I, Sam-I-am?" I demanded.

"No, actually in that analogy _I_ would be Sam-I-am," Marco corrected. "You would be the unnamed narrator refusing to have anything to do with those tasty, tasty green eggs and ham and then finally at the end you discover that you really love them."

"Well I wouldn't love any green eggs and ham," I said firmly.

"Why not?" Marco asked me. "And don't tell me it's because the food is probably rotten because I'm talking more about food coloring."

"Well…" I trailed off, trying to find the words. "It would be weird?"

"Would it?" Marco challenged. "Cereals and candy and things use food coloring all the time. If they didn't use food coloring then you'd think it was weird and if they happened to have used a different color you'd think that it was completely normal."

"But they didn't and I don't," I pointed out.

"In an infinite number of universes…" Marco said dramatically.

I snorted. "You are _not_ bringing string theory into this. Absolutely not. I forbid it."

"If you truly feel you must cripple me in order to win then I pity you," Marco said virtuously. "You're right, of course, and I'll beat you anyway but I pity you all the same. That's what makes me a better person than you, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"Now tell me, why shouldn't those foods be dyed any color we want to if they weren't supposed to taste like a certain color?" Marco demanded. "It's not like the food coloring itself has a flavor."

"Because it would be weird," I said lamely.

"Because…?" Marco prompted. "I think that the answer you're looking for is 'because those foods taste like those colors' but it would really be best if you could come to that conclusion on your own."

"How am I supposed to come to any sort of conclusion on my own if you just told me that I'm supposed to do that?" I inquired skeptically.

"You'll manage," Marco said blithely. "I have faith. Now, as to my question…?"

"Are you sure that the food coloring doesn't have a taste? Because I have actually had food that had a different food coloring than usual before and it really didn't taste much like it normally did," I told him.

Marco nodded. "Positive. If the food coloring did have a strong taste then they would have found something else to use as food coloring by now."

"But if it doesn't have a taste then why do I have a problem with food that's the wrong color?" I asked.

Marco shrugged. "I'm hardly a scientist, Jake. I guess it might be because it just looks wrong. You look at ketchup, for example, and know that it's supposed to be red. If it's green or purple then it just doesn't sit right with you. We already know that taste and smell are related so why not the other senses? If it doesn't look right, it won't end up tasting right even though if you couldn't see it then it would taste the same."

That made sense. Marco usually did, even when I was disagreeing with him. "Okay, I'll bite. Say that food tastes differently if it's a different color because your mind tricks you or something. That doesn't mean that the food itself tastes any different, as you said, so why should it actually have a color that it tastes?"

"There's a reason certain colors were picked," Marco claimed. "This cheese, for instance. What color do you think that tastes?"

I reached for another cube and popped it into my mouth, my first since Marco had brought up moldy food because nothing kills an appetite faster than discussing something truly disgusting. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on tasting a color. Unfortunately, I have no experience with this and don't actually have Synesthesia so I'm not quite sure what I'm doing.

"Well?" Marco asked impatiently.

My eyes snapped back open. "I don't know, Marco. Yellow?"

Marco frowned. "Yellow, huh? You really think so?"

"Why, what do you think?" I asked a little defensively, crossing my arms.

"Green," Marco replied instantly. "Definitely green."

I laughed. "You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Marco demanded.

"Marco, I've known you long enough to know that whether or not you're actually kidding has little to nothing to do with whether you _look_ like you are," I remarked.

Marco titled his head my way. "Point. Well, I guess you'll just have to take my word that I am not kidding."

"You could be kidding about not being kidding," I pointed out.

"Unless you want to drive yourself crazy trying to out-Sicilian me à la 'The Princess Bride', then just take my word for it," Marco advised. "I mean, it would be fun to watch and all but I get the feeling we wouldn't reach a consensus on this."

"We're _not_ going to reach a consensus on this," I said flatly.

"You're such a downer, Jake," Marco complained.

"I still can't believe you'd admit to watching – let alone _liking_ – a movie called 'The Princess Bride'," I said, shaking my head.

"Hey, lame name or not that movie is awesome," Marco insisted. " 'Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles…'"

"Not interested," I told him.

Marco stuck his nose up in the air. " 'You can die too for all I care.'"

"Is that another quote?" I asked incredulously.

" 'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.'"

"What word?" I asked, confused.

" 'Look, I don't mean to be rude but this is not as easy as it looks, so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't distract me.'"

I blinked. "From what, quoting things?"

" 'DEATH FIRST!' "

"You're not even making any sense," I complained.

" 'Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.'"

"_Marco_!" I exclaimed.

"Fine, fine…" he grumbled. "Stay a philistine for all I care."

I sighed. "Just tell me why in the world you think that this yellow cheddar cheese tastes green."

"I'm not sure that I can explain to one such as you," Marco sniffed.

I raised my eyebrow. "What's this? Are you admitting defeat?"

Marco's eyes flashed. "Never!"

"Then explain," I ordered.

"It helps if you close your eyes," Marco began. "That way you can focus less on the color that you _see_ and more on the color that you _taste_."

"Do you have _any_ idea how much you sound like a druggie right now?" I asked, my lips twitching upward in amusement.

"Do you have any idea how much you still sound like you're forty?" Marco countered.

"Your failing, not mine," I said smugly.

"The cheese itself might be yellow but I didn't ask what the cheese looked like, only what it tasted like. You can't actually see a color when you bite into the cheese unless, like you so helpfully brought up earlier, you have Synesthesia…which I don't. But you do get this feeling. I feel that the cheese tastes green and therefore it does," Marco declared dramatically.

"Now we're bringing feelings into this?" I asked, surprised. "Dear God, Marco, how many senses are we dragging into this?"

Marco ignored me. "Usually a food's taste-color matches up with its sight-color but not always, as you can see in this case."

"If it tastes green then why does it taste yellow to me?" I demanded.

Marco rolled his eyes. "Obviously you don't even really believe that a food can taste like a color so you're basing your answer on what you see. You are _really_ bad at this."

I laughed incredulously. "Me? You're the one who's claiming that yellow cheese tastes green."

Marco shook his head sorrowfully. "There are none so blind as those who will not see."

We would probably be awhile.

Review Please!


	29. No Means No

No Means No

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I watched Tobias walk away with no small degree of confusion. He was a lot more upset than he wanted to let on but for the life of me I couldn't understand why.

Tobias asked me if I wanted to become a member of the Sharing and I told him that I didn't. If the Sharing were a normal place and not something weird that seems to cause the people who go to it to get obsessed, then that would have been it. Tobias either wouldn't have bothered asking me why or, if he had, he wouldn't have started arguing with me about it.

I'm still not sure why we got into a mini-argument about it. I'm not entirely sure _why_ I don't want to be a part of the Sharing but I'm also not sure why I need to have a bunch of well-thought-out reasons. Shouldn't you need a reason to want to belong to a club, not a reason not to? These people are acting like joining the Sharing is the norm and _I'm_ the one who is being weird for not jumping at the chance to.

I'm starting to expect it from the full members by now but Tobias? He hasn't really been going here for all that long from what I can tell and he's already slated to become a 'full member' tonight. I hope it makes him happy but something about the idea of becoming a full member really sets me on edge. Given how…enthusiastic everyone in the Sharing is about the Sharing at all times, I'm pretty sure that if Tobias was going back when he still hung around with me I would have heard about it.

He stopped doing that a few days after we saw that meteor on the way home from the mall so he really can't have been involved with these people for even a full month. That seems pretty fast, to me. I wasn't really paying much attention back before Tom became a full member but I'm pretty sure it was longer than this. Still, if he wants to do it then he should just do it. Why is this bothering me anyway?

What did it matter if he got unreasonably angry at me for something I don't quite understand? He was probably just being protective of the Sharing since he took the fact I don't want to join to mean that I don't think it's 'good enough' for me. I'm not sure when I gave Tobias the impression that I'm a snob but he's not even a friend of mine so it really doesn't matter.

"Are you ready to go?" Tom asked me.

I nodded. "More than ready."

Tom shot me a strange look as we headed for the car. "What's that supposed to mean? You weren't having fun?"

"Not really," I admitted, opening the car door and getting into the passenger seat. "There was this kid from school there, Tobias."

Tom frowned. "Was he giving you a hard time? Just tell one of the full members and they'll put a stop to it. We don't tolerate bullying at the Sharing. It's supposed to be a place of warmth and acceptance."

I looked at him quizzically as he started the car. "You sound like a Hallmark card."

"Yeah?" Tom asked, grinning. "Well, I suppose it goes to show that they can have good ideas, too."

"He wasn't bullying me or anything," I assured him, finding the very idea of _Tobias_ bullying someone rather surreal. "He told me he's going to become a full member tonight."

"Oh?" Tom seemed pleased. "That sounds like a good thing. How did that ruin your evening? Are _you_ being the snobby one? The Sharing is for everybody, you know. Even Tobias."

I rolled my eyes. "That's what he said! I would have thought that you of all people would know me better than that, Tom."

"Hey, calm down, calm down," Tom said soothingly. "I know you wouldn't. I just don't see what the problem is."

"He kept asking me all these questions about why _I_ don't want to become a full member," I explained. "And he was taking it really personally. It was really weird and kind of upsetting. I didn't know my joining or not joining meant so much to the guy."

Tom shrugged. "He's happy and he just wants everyone to be able to feel what he's feeling."

Somehow, I doubted that was it. Something about the way that Tobias called himself a loser and then the look on his face once he realized what he'd said…It made me realize that I really didn't know all that much about him.

"So," Tom said casually after a moment. "Not to be 'weird and kind of upsetting' or anything but why _don't_ you want to be a member, little brother?"

"Because I don't like it," I said simply. "Why isn't that enough?"

"Oh, it is!" Tom assured me. "If you really don't want to go then that's cool. It's just…you know how important the Sharing is to me."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know." Sometimes it seemed that that was all he cared about anymore and before I started going to the Sharing we hadn't really been seeing very much of each other. Even now, all he seems to want to talk about was the Sharing. It had only been a few weeks now and already I was sick of it.

"As such, it's important to me that I find out why people don't like it so that I can talk to the others and we can try to make it better," Tom explained. "Surely you don't mind _that_?"

"Well…" I trailed off. It did sound like a pretty reasonable request. It was just so hard to explain and I had really struck out when I'd tried with Tobias. "Well, those motivational speeches are pretty boring, for one."

Tom smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I'm not too fond of those, either. They're important, though, and they're only every few weeks. I think that appeals more to some of the older crowd or people who are more troubled than either of us. What else?"

That wasn't enough? "Everyone keeps talking about how the individual will have to give up something, some bit of freedom to become part of something larger than themselves."

Tom nodded. "That sounds about right. What's so wrong with that? You know that you have to give up little freedoms for security now. Just _try_ yelling 'fire' in a crowded theater and see what happens to you. Or wear gang colors or a druggie shirt to school."

I groaned. "Tobias already gave me the lecture about how I'm already 'a part of' a lot of things."

"He's not wrong," Tom pointed out.

"Just because being a part of something doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing doesn't mean it's always good, either," I argued. "People can be a part of gangs or mobs or cults-"

"Who said anything about a cult?" Tom asked sharply.

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Never mind," Tom said quickly.

"I just don't see why the Sharing is so…upfront about people having to sacrifice and give up individual freedoms in order to join," I said, shaking my head in bemusement.

"Would you rather they lied to you?" Tom asked, looking shocked at the very idea.

"Well…no," I admitted. "But I just don't see why it's necessary to give up anything at all to join. I mean, what is the Sharing? A group of people who want to all get along and help each other. What is there to sacrifice? The right to be jerks to people? I don't think they'd warn you about that. A lot of time since they'd expect you to participate in their beach-cleaning and highway pick-ups? It seems like they could just come right out and say that it would be a huge time commitment. I just don't like the feeling of not knowing what I'm getting into."

"It's just a few harmless secrets," Tom claimed. "To be perfectly honest, all this 'secrecy' is really just a gimmick to attract new members."

"Well, I just don't see the appeal," I said flatly.

We stopped at a red light and Tom turned to me, putting his hand on my arm. "Jake, the Sharing is important to me and you are, too. I hate that I never have enough time to spend with you and these last few weeks we've gone to the Sharing together have been wonderful. I don't want to lose that. The Sharing really would make your life so much better. _Trust me, Jake._ I'm your big brother; would I lie to you?"

Tom's face spasmed, then, the way it had been doing every time he tried to seriously talk me into joining. I blinked and it had passed. Tom never wanted to talk about it so I didn't mention it. It was a little weird, though. It was almost like subconsciously he didn't want me to join but I had no idea why. It wasn't like Tom had ever been _embarrassed_ by me before and he certainly was spending an awful lot of time trying to coax me into joining if he really didn't want me around.

"I know you wouldn't," I said softly. "And I know that you love it but I just really don't feel like I fit in there."

"Nonsense," Tom waved me off. "_Everybody_ fits in at the Sharing. That's the whole point."

"Good for everybody," I said shortly.

"Jake, I really just don't understand your problem," Tom said, shaking his head ruefully. "You're taking a perfectly nice, caring community and you're just flat-out rejecting it for no reason at all." Starting to get angry, he pulled into the driveway and parked the car.

"I shouldn't _have_ to have a reason!" I cried out, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car as fast as I could, hoping to escape this conversation. "I'm not five years old, anymore! I'm not always going to like the things that you do. Why can't you just accept that?"

"It's not like I'm asking you to follow me around everywhere and try to live my life, Jake!" Tom countered, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. "I just took you to something that I love in the hopes that maybe you could appreciate it, too, and I thought that you really did! Now I find out that after all this, you're just spitting on something that means the world to me? How am I supposed to react?"

I threw my hands up in the air. "Like someone halfway sane would! I said I don't want to join a club that you're in, not that I'm rejecting you and everything you stand for!"

"Could have fooled me," Tom muttered.

I don't understand. Why is this such a big deal? He doesn't understand. Why aren't my words getting through to him? What is it about the Sharing that makes people act this way? I hope that I never understand it because it's really starting to irritate me.

I have done _nothing_ but be supportive and open-minded about this whole thing even though I didn't want to get involved and what do I get in return? People biting my head off left and right because I don't want to dive right in and devote my whole life to their stupid club. And they _wondered_ why I didn't want to join! Their recruitment strategy really left a lot to be desired.

People were starting to stare. I really didn't want to have this argument anyway. I marched towards the house.

"And just where are you going?" Tom demanded, hurrying after me.

I stopped, suddenly tired. Why were we even arguing over this? "Look, Tom, it's just not me, okay?"

And...that's where it picks up in Megamorphs #4.

Review Please!


	30. These Boring, Average, No Big Deal Times

These Boring, Average, No Big Deal Times

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Then we had dinner. The four of us. Like the old days. _

_My dad got off into some long, involved, really boring story about his work. And my mom asked me and Tom about school. Then my dad realized he'd forgotten some part of his boring story, so he had to tell that part over again. And my mom said she hoped we liked the clothes she'd bought at the mall. And of courseTom and I joked about how she'd probably shopped at Formerly Cool Fashions "R" Us. It was an old joke we always used whenever my mom bought us clothing. _

_I sat there afterward, stuffed with fish and rice and snap peas, and still ftuffing my face with something called tiramisu, which his an Italian dessert soaked in some kind of liquer. I wanted to believe it was all real. Because, you know, that was teh whole point of fighting. The whole point of taking risks and fighting the Yeerks was to protect boring, average, no-big-deal times like this...It made me mad. Mostly what people want is to be left alone. They just want to sit down and have a nice dinner and tell boring stories and tell jokes they've told a dozen times before...What is the matter with people that they know that all that counts is that people who love each other be able to be together, live in peace, learn, work, tell boring stories and dumb jokes? What do they think they're going to get that is better than this? _

-Animorphs 16.

Dinner that night was salmon, wild rice, and snap peas and all four of us were able to make it. My mom and dad had always believed that it was important for families to eat together when they could (backed by some study or another) and so most nights they were home for a nice, family meal, more often than not holding hands while they did so like they were doing tonight. When Jake and I were younger, we were always there too but as we grew up there were more and more nights spent out of the house.

Jake's only here tonight instead of at Marco's because my mom guilted him by saying that she got the salmon especially for him, for instance. I used to skip dinner occasionally to hang out with friends but now it's always because the Yeerk has somewhere better to be.

{I _always_ have somewhere better to be,} the Yeerk said haughtily. {If nothing else, I could just go down to the Yeerk Pool for awhile. It's just that this ridiculous cover of mine involves a certain time commitment and so if something's not as urgent then it might need to be put off.}

{'This ridiculous cover',} I repeated. {That would be _my life_, wouldn't it?}

{Well, it's not much of one,} the Yeerk critiqued.

{I'd probably care more that you think that if you could find _anything_ you liked about humanity,} I replied. I was glad to be home tonight. I was glad to be home every chance I got but the sheer headache of the oatmeal addiction that still wasn't quite under control coupled with the horror of a coup like the planned infestation of world leaders at a peace summit coming up in a couple of months made me especially glad for a break now.

{Of course I can,} the Yeerk said easily.

{Name it,} I challenged.

{Your bodies,} the Yeerk replied smugly.

I mentally rolled my eyes. {That doesn't count!}

{You can't very well qualify something after I've answered,} the Yeerk said indignantly. {And even if I don't like much else about humanity, that really says more about your species than me.}

{I think it's the other way around,} I disagreed.

{Yeah, well, you would,} the Yeerk pointed out. {And you are especially boring for a human.}

{What makes you say that?} I asked, mildly curious.

{You're still a child so your – and thus my – freedom of movement is greatly limited. None of the older hosts have to worry about curfews or being grounded,} the Yeerk complained.

{You are so put-upon,} I deadpanned.

"So how was work, dear?" my mom was asking.

My dad swallowed. "Well, it's flu season and so every other patient was either in there because he had the flu or getting a shot to prevent it. I hope this year's vaccines are good ones because if not then all those people trying not to get sick will have gotten ill just sitting in the waiting room. It was pretty standard except for this rather interesting case with a family coming in for a vaccine."

{I will bet you _anything_ that this will not be even remotely interesting,} the Yeerk said, annoyed.

{Why would I take that bet? You'd claim it was boring no matter how fascinating you found it,} I pointed out.

{I would not,} the Yeerk denied, sounding almost offended.

{Yes you would. _And_ you don't find anything human interesting anyway,} I reminded him.

{Well, this will be boring by even _your_ human standards, wait and see,} the Yeerk predicted.

"What happened, Dad?" Jake asked.

"This mother came in with three small children. The oldest was a six-year-old girl and the two boys were four and one," my dad began. "I had been seeing them ever since the daughter was a year old and their insurance provider dropped their previous pediatrician and our office was the closest approved office to their house."

{We don't need all this background,} the Yeerk complained.

{You're bored already?} I couldn't believe it.

{I was bored before he started,} the Yeerk admitted.

I knew it. That was why I hadn't taken the bet, after all. Besides, the Yeerk never gave me anything but bragging rights when I won and he quickly got tired of listening to me gloat despite the fact he always gloated far longer whenever _he_ won.

{Well, it's not annoying when I do it,} the Yeerk told me. It was such a double standard. {I never claimed otherwise. You should just be grateful I'm not complaining to him, okay? I have to let it out _somehow_ and who can you tell?}

"No little kid likes shots and they often build it up to be worse in their minds than it actually is," my dad continued. "And when a child sees another child have a particularly bad reaction, even if the reaction is _before_ actually getting the shot, then they have a bad reaction as well. We try to pick out the one most likely to freak out and then it's a judgment call whether they should go first so they don't have time to panic and scare the others or last so that when they do panic the others have already gotten their shot."

"And you guessed wrong?" the Yeerk hazarded a guess just to prove that he was listening.

{Well if I'm being forced to actually listen then I might as well let people know it,} the Yeerk reasoned.

My dad shrugged. "I guess so. When we got near the four-year-old he started screaming bloody murder. I hadn't even touched him yet and he was acting like I was murdering him. And when I rolled up his sleeve to rub disinfectant on the area…I had a headache for the rest of the _day_. His sister hadn't gone yet and she looked like she was going to bolt so her mother stepped in front of the door. She had been a little scared before her brother had started screaming but afterwards she was absolutely terrified."

"We got lucky with Tom and Jake," my mom remarked. "By the time Jake entered his fear of shots stage, Tom had outgrown it."

"The boy didn't just stop at screaming," my dad said, wincing a little as he remembered it. "He was thrashing this way and that and nearly kicked me in the fact. I had to call two nurses in to hold him down and even then that wasn't enough. He wouldn't stay still so the first shot didn't go into the muscle so we had to give him a _second_ vaccine and if anything he was fighting even harder that time. His poor sister was practically traumatized when it was her turn but fortunately she let us inject her."

{I wonder what would be more tedious,} the Yeerk mused. {Actually living through that story or just having to listen to it.}

"Oh, those poor kids!" my mom exclaimed. "It's never easy when they're too young to understand."

"And to think," the Yeerk said, shaking my head. "By the time he grows out of it, it will be the youngest one's turn."

"So how was school, boys?" my mom asked.

"They keep talking about how different high school's going to be," Jake said. "And the teachers say that they're evaluating us to see if they're going to recommend us for any honors classes."

"Do you think you'll be recommended for anything?" my dad asked.

"I don't know," Jake replied. "I kind of want to make Honors World History just so I don't have to take Geography. I just don't really want to do Honors English because I heard that they have summer homework."

"Well, we'll see what the recommendation says," my mom said tolerantly. "What about you, Tom?"

The Yeerk shrugged. "We're getting towards the end of the year. In a couple of weeks, some of my classes are going to be having finals."

My mother blinked, surprised. "So soon? But you still have a few weeks left of class."

The Yeerk nodded. "I know but the seniors are going to be graduating so some of my classes that have a lot of seniors in them are having the final for everyone during senior finals and we'll just do projects or watch videos for the rest of the year."

"I suppose it wouldn't make sense to have a 45-minute final for the seniors and an hour and a half one for everybody else," my mom commented. "I hope you studied."

"Don't worry," the Yeerk assured them. "The Sharing's formed a study group and I'm getting a lot done there."

Yes, now the Sharing was branching into luring unsuspecting and stressed high-schoolers into their web.

{And the best part is, _it's working_,} the Yeerk said excitedly. {It annoys me that I actually have to study, though, so I can be sure to get the incorrect science down the way the school expects it and not accidentally put down something too advanced and attract suspicion."

My dad snapped his fingers. "Oh, I forgot to tell you about the baby's shot!"

{_No_!}

{It's not that bad,} I said, bemused.

"We decided to get the baby's shot out of the way first in case either of his siblings reacted badly and he started crying as well because the younger the child is, the more likely they are to join in when others start crying," my dad explained. "So the baby was perfectly calm while we were preparing him for his shot because he didn't know what was going on. That's not really the remarkable part. He barely blinked when he got the shot and then his brother started freaking out and the baby started crying after the fact."

My mom gasped. "Oh no!"

"Needless to say, I was thrilled to see the back of them," my dad concluded. "Even the suckers couldn't quiet them down!"

"I guess after a morning like that, going to the mall with me must have seemed like a vacation," my mom remarked.

My dad laughed. "Oh, it would take a lot more than screaming children to make me glad to be at the mall."

My mom rolled her eyes. "Well I had fun. I got you boys clothes for the summer so I hope you like them. It would have been better if you had been there with me to pick them out yourself but I think by now I know what kind of clothes you like."

The Yeerk exchanged a smile with Jake. "Well, sure, Mom," he said innocently. "But then there's really not much of a selection at Formerly Cool Fashions "R" Us."

"I think you should start getting our things oversized so that we can grow into them when they finally become retro," Jake joked.

"If you don't like the clothes I pick, you can always come with me," my mom hinted.

"I would, Mom, I really would but I can't actually be seen in that store or else my life as we know it would officially be over," the Yeerk declared dramatically.

"And if I actually had to pick something from the racks there then I'd have no one to blame but myself," Jake said solemnly.

"So you'd rather blame it on me?" my mom asked rhetorically.

Jake nodded anyway. "Absolutely."

My parents kept talking with the Yeerk throwing in the occasional comment to prove that he was, in fact, still paying attention (and complaining to me the entire time) but Jake had started to look distant again. He was doing that more and more often these days and it was really starting to worry me.

"You're awfully quiet, Jake," my mom noted. Apparently I hadn't been the only one to see it and, unlike me, my mom could actually ask about it. "Thinking deep thoughts?"

Jake started and then smiled at her. "I was thinking this was cool. We should all have dinner together more often." He glanced my way. "It was nice. I hope nothing ever happens to us. I hope we'll always be together."

Those words are like daggers to the heart. They're a very nice sentiment, of course, but it's too late. Something already happened, namely the Yeerks. My parents and Jake may not be aware of this yet but this innocence can't last forever. Their days are numbered but at least they aren't aware of it. Let them live in hope.

{You're right,} the Yeerk told me. {It's really only a matter of time.}

The Yeerk smiled sardonically. "Hey, Mom, no more tiramisu for Jake. The liqueur is making him mushy."

Review Please!


	31. Awkward Thanks

Awkward Thanks

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_{We were in the Gedds till the Andalites first came. Some of ur people still have nothing better than Gedds for hosts.}_

_{What about the Andalites?} I asked. {What happened when they came to your world?}_

_{Of course. The Andalite has not told you their story, has he? What a pity. It's such a fine story. Ask your pet Andalite Ax, sometime. Ask him about the story of the Andalites and the Yeerks.}_

-Animorphs #6.

I hadn't seen much of Ax during my infestation. He had warned me that he wouldn't be able to help out with keeping me – or, more to the point, the Yeerk – contained because he was too busy impersonating me but that can't have been all it was.

My parents trust me and so never check on me at night. I feel a little guilty abusing my parents trust like this but since I'm only doing so so that I can try to save the world and them in particular, I can live with it. Tom never felt the need to watch my sleep before and, at least before Ax played me, he had never been suspicious of me beyond wondering if I could have been one of those construction site kids and trying to use that opportunity to get me infested. I'm still not sure why that didn't pan out but suffice to say I'm grateful.

No one would go into my bedroom while I was supposed to be asleep and so they wouldn't know that I, or Ax as the case may be, was gone, particularly if I locked the door or stuffed the sheets. Ax couldn't stay morphed at night because he'd just wake up a nothlit so he'd definitely have to lock the door so that if someone tried to get into my room he could quickly morph and open the door. He can't really have gotten much sleep but, then again, neither did anyone else. _I_ probably slept more than anybody else because the others had to be on guard for an escape attempt the entire time while the Yeerk got to choose his opportunities.

It might have actually been safer for him to be out in the forest trying to stop me than it would have been at home just waiting to be discovered. Me missing would have been a lot less suspicious than an Andalite in my bedroom. Yeah, three days might catch someone's attention but four days? A week? I'm sure we could have come up with something. It if hadn't been for Ax my friends would have been forced to use that rather than risking letting a Yeerk go.

I don't know if Ax was out in the forest with them when he wasn't pretending to be me but if he was he certainly didn't make contact with me. It's not surprising, really. Ax is an Andalite and saying that they hate the Yeerks is one of the biggest understatements I've ever heard. Andalites don't get captured. They just don't. The one Andalite who did get captured is apparently regarded as 'the abomination.' To see one of the few people he's made contact with, his adopted 'prince', infested must have been too much for him.

And then there's what the Yeerk said. The best host any Yeerk had was a Gedd until the Andalites came. Something changed then. The Yeerks got better hosts. But how? What does that mean?

First of all, I'm not even sure that I can trust that information. It came from a Yeerk who hated me and my friends and has no reason not to say whatever he thinks would hurt us. Trying to convince me that the Andalites have something to do with the Yeerks menacing the galaxy would definitely qualify as that and since the Yeerk knew everything about me, he'd know just what he had to say to convince me. Just because the Yeerk was dying didn't mean he had no reason to lie to me.

None of the Yeerk's memories that I saw supported this story and so perhaps the Yeerk didn't experience it firsthand. If he _could_ have proved it then he probably would have. On the other hand, the fact that he wouldn't even tell me anything more than the Yeerks only infested Gedds until they met the Andalites makes me doubt its veracity. After all, why wouldn't he jump at the chance to try and sow the seeds of dissent among us? Why not make us doubt Ax? Surely his taunt about Ax being our 'pet Andalite' wouldn't compare to my reaction at hearing the story.

Of course, now I just might drive myself crazy trying to figure out what he meant by that. Did the Yeerks have moral reasons for only going after Gedds that faded once they met the Andalites or were the Gedds the most sophisticated species they had access to? The Yeerk said that some of their people still only had Gedds which would point to the Gedds being the best host available at the time but maybe there were better hosts that the Yeerks could have taken on their planet but didn't until the Andalites came but there simply aren't enough of them.

If there were enough bodies to go around, the Yeerks probably wouldn't keep conquering people, right? But then, Visser Three seemed determined to explode the Yeerk population so there would be enough of them to enslave all of us instead of just taking as many as they needed and leaving. Not that I would be happy with that outcome but still. Then again, Visser Three is insane so his desire might not be what the Yeerks as a whole would decide. He at least has a few superiors. And speaking of Visser Three, I'm still a bit miffed that I'm apparently being blamed for his vast myriad of mental problems. 'Driven Visser Three half-mad with rage' indeed.

Were the Andalites the first to go to the Yeerk home world or only the most significant? Why did they go there? Did they know about the Yeerks? Did they want to put a stop to the Yeerks enslaving the Gedd? If so, why? Out of principle? Fear that the Yeerks would want to take better bodies and knowing that anyone in their right mind would prefer to be an Andalite to being a Gedd? Did the Andalites work with the Yeerks at first, perhaps trying to trade or studying them? What happened to make the Andalites and Yeerks hate each other?

How did the Yeerks get the capabilities to go out enslaving other species when they just had the Gedds to work with? Did the Andalites bring them better bodies? I don't really believe that they would capture people and just give them to the Yeerks to be enslaved but I don't see how, say, the Hork-Bajir could be taken by Gedds. Did they get the technology to travel to other worlds and capture or kill from the Andalites? Did the Andalites just give it to them? Was it stolen? What happened? If the Andalites did play some small role in what happened, I can see why they'd feel the need to try to save the rest of the galaxy and why Ax wouldn't have told us. I might ask him about it someday but for now I'm still too grateful to him to put him on the spot and it probably doesn't even really matter.

But still! I don't even know if there was any truth to be found in the Yeerks' words or if I'm on the right track at all. I'm going to drive myself crazy with this and being a Controller for three days has already given me more than enough to think about.

{Prince Jake?} Ax asked, suddenly appearing in front of me.

I smiled. "Hey, Ax. I was looking for you."

Ax blinked his main eyes. {For me? Is something the matter?}

I shook my head. "No, nothing like that. I just realized that I hadn't gotten a chance to thank you."

{For what?} Ax asked, sounding like he honestly had no idea why I might be feeling grateful for him.

Well, if I had to spell it out for him… "Thank you for noticing that I was a Controller. If you hadn't then we would all be in some serious trouble right now and Earth might very well be doomed."

{My planet as well,} Ax added. {The Yeerks learned much when they infested just one of us and that was over twenty of your years ago. Updated information is not what my people need and I have no desire to be a second abomination.}

"My falling in the Yeerk Pool really could have ruined everything, couldn't it?" I asked, a bit uncomfortably. For virtually anyone else on the planet, getting infested was just going to ruin their life and possibly the lives of those around them if they could convince their family and friends to go to the Sharing. Still, it would cause a lot less damage than what any one of us getting infested would have done. I can't believe that I let that happen.

{It wasn't your fault, Prince Jake,} Ax said vehemently. {You were unconscious. It was our responsibility to make sure the Yeerks couldn't take advantage of your unconscious state.}

I shrugged, not willing to pass the blame along. "You were busy fighting the Yeerks. It's understandable."

{I must admit that I am not certain why you wish to thank me,} Ax said slowly. {It was in my best interest, as well as the best interest of the all free people, for me to notice and inform everyone that you had been compromised.}

'Compromised', of course, being a nice way of saying 'were stupid enough to get infested.'

"Even if that's true, you were the only one who noticed," I argued. "The others may have seen that I fell in the Yeerk Pool or that I was a little out of it when I first work up but they didn't piece it together. And even though they did use what they saw as evidence of you being right, when you first said it they weren't exactly keen on the idea. You really had to convince them and if you weren't there and you didn't believe that I was a Controller there is no guarantee that they even would have noticed in time or that they wouldn't have just dismissed the possibility and let me go."

{It's not their fault. They haven't had the…experience that I have,} Ax said, not meeting my eyes. I could swear that he almost looked guilty.

"I know it's not their fault and I'm not here to complain about them. They were amazing and really came through for me, too. I just want to thank you for doing the most that anyone has ever done for me," I replied.

Ax lowered his eye stalks. {You're welcome, then. I had another advantage, you know, besides knowing more about Yeerks.}

"And what's that?" I asked, curiously. We've only known Ax for about a month or so but he hasn't really volunteered much information, a fact that is seriously annoying Marco.

{The others did not have the opportunity of seeing the Yeerk reacting badly to the unexpected presence of an Andalite,} Ax replied promptly.

I laughed. "Well, there's definitely that."

One nice thing about Ax is that he was the only one who consistently referred the Yeerk as the Yeerk. Sure, the others said whether they were talking to me or the Yeerk but when speaking _about_ the Yeerk fell into our typical pattern of referring to the Yeerk as the host. Yeah, they didn't know the Yeerk's name and I didn't care too much about it either but they said things like 'It's a good thing we were ready when Jake tried to escape' and that really bothered me.

The Yeerk had been really big on convincing me that nobody would ever be able to tell the difference and that that was one of the worst parts about being a Controller and then there were my friends, people who actually _did_ know the difference and know it well, and they kept calling him Jake.

{I do hope that your family was not suspicious of me,} Ax told me.

I winced. "Well, they do not believe that I was infested by a Yeerk and replaced by another alien so that's something, I suppose. It's really a good thing that we didn't have school or things might have become a bit more complicated." They did get extremely worried about me but given how very little experience Ax has, he pulled off a freaking miracle.

{Marco said that it would be for the best if I were only around at night for dinner and sleeping,} Ax informed me.

I nodded. "That's smart, give them less time to wonder. Next time, we might have to think about having whoever gets infested 'sleep over' somewhere else for even less of an opportunity."

{Next time?} Ax repeated.

I shrugged. "Well, it never hurts to be prepared."

Review Please!


	32. Sick

Sick

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Marco and I had taken turns watching Jake last night. Marco was there now. He would be until Tom left for school. We thought in his fever Jake might start talking about something that would prove fatal if Tom overheard. So I'd spent half the night as a fly on Jake's wall. Buzzing outside to the bushes to do quick demorphs and remorphs. Jake didn't say anything suspicious. Sick as he was, I think there was some part of him that knew how dangerous thd wrong words could be. _

-Animorphs #29.

There are entire weeks when we don't have anything urgent we need to deal with and so are actually able to go on the offensive. Marco complains all the louder when it's not something urgent and last-minute like the Chee malfunction or what the slaughterhouse disaster was _supposed_ to mean. Still, it would be irresponsible of us to just sit back and do nothing while the Yeerks continue to enslave our species because they're not doing anything out of the ordinary. The ordinary is bad enough.

Sometimes, to make up for those rare times when we get to choose the missions, we get hit with multiple things all at once. There was Rachel's allergy when we were dealing with that stuck-up star who was willing to sell his soul to Visser Three for career help. There was Rachel considering quitting while we were looking for the Kandrona _and_ trying to decide whether to even stay on Earth and fight or not. There was David and the summit. There was the captured Hork-Bajir and the Yeerks' sudden interest in Tobias. There was Ax getting some potentially lethal Andalite disease while Aftran needed to be rescued from the Yeerk Pool.

And did I mention that it was a very contagious Andalite disease that I've already caught and that I think I heard my mother say something about Rachel catching, too? And that Tobias, Marco, and Cassie are at risk of catching? And that Ax will need surgery or he will die and one of us will have to do it?

Maybe it's just the fact that I don't remember the last time I felt this horrible but I'm having a difficult time believing that things have ever been this bad.

Part of it is the fact that I'm having difficulty concentrating. My head just feels all fuzzy and I'm getting the horrible feeling that I'm forgetting something. It won't matter if I do, however, because I am out of the game until I'm feeling better so I just hope that _somebody_ manages to avoid getting sick and can save Aftran and Ax. This mission would have been difficult with all six of us, never mind possibly only one. And if no one can do it…our mercy, Cassie's long-shot attempt at peace that actually paid off might actually get us all killed.

I wonder if Ax will survive this. I'm sure Erek can keep him hidden but who knows where he needs surgery or if he'll be lucid enough to tell us? Who knows if anyone will be around _to _do the surgery or if they'll be able to pull it off? I think Cassie's our best bet on that front due to her experience and even she isn't remotely qualified to do this.

I feel so helpless just lying here in this bed waiting to hear whether we're going to die or not. If the Yeerks came for me now, I don't think I'd even be able to put up much of a fight. I don't think I could hold it together long enough to morph and even if I did then my morph would be as sick as I am. And if the Yeerks did find out anything from Aftran, they'd know to bring at least as many people as they took to get the morphing cube from David.

And _that's_ not even our biggest security risk. Like it or not – and I most certainly don't – our biggest security risk right now is me.

I feel awful. I'm not entirely sure what was going on earlier today but I think that my mom took me to the doctor. The fact that I cannot remember is not a good sign. It's a horrible sign. Anything could have happened. I could have said anything.

All I can think about is this mess with Aftran and Ax and how I'm letting everybody down when they need me so how do I know that I won't say it? I'm trying to think of something else, _anything _else but I just can't manage it.

The most obvious concern is that I'll say something in front of Tom. He'll act immediately and kill me if I'm lucky and take me if I'm not. If he thinks I just happen to know about the Yeerks but am not an 'Andalite Bandit' then there's no reason not to take me. We'll all be done for in that case.

Maybe I said something about the Yeerks while I was gone. Maybe a Controller heard me and is trying to track me down or is even now telling their superiors and organizing something to destroy me?

Or what if just an ordinary person heard something? What if they tell someone or get infested someday? I won't even know until it's too late. What if my parents hear me saying something and make the mistake of mentioning it to Tom? Have I already ruined everything? I don't know and I won't ever be sure that I didn't. That's okay, though. I'd rather not be certain given what a certainty would mean in this case.

The others _were_ watching me earlier but I'm not sure that they have time anymore and if anyone besides Rachel is sick. Rachel could tell people, too. She doesn't live with a Controller so that's one less problem for her to deal with but she still runs the risk of having her mother or sisters tell someone or get infested themselves one day.

And even if the others were watching me, what could they do? Hopefully realize that I was ruining everything before I said anything incriminating and audible? Shout at me to stop talking and hope I was lucid enough to listen? This is bad. This is oh, so very bad.

My stomach seizes suddenly and I know what's about to happen. I put one foot experimentally on the floor but I'm too shaky to make it to the bathroom in time. I don't enjoy the thought of throwing up all over myself and my bed but fortunately my wonderful mother has thought of that.

I guess my mother had to deal with one too many accidents when we were sick because as far back as I can remember, whenever we felt the slightest bit nauseous she made us carry around 'spit buckets'. We didn't end up using them most of the time but it's certainly a big help now.

I hate throwing up. It's probably the worst part of being sick, even if it's not exactly going to pose a security risk. It feels like acid running all along your throat (or what I'd imagine acid felt like since I've never actually been stupid enough to swallow any) and the taste is horrible. The aftertaste refuses to fade no matter how much water you drink – and the water tastes nasty, too – as does the burn. Once you start throwing up, it's rarely just the one time. You often end up completely emptying your stomach and having to look at everything you ate that day is not appealing. Still, at least that means that you can't throw up any more. You feel really weak once you're done throwing up even though it really shouldn't have been all that strenuous.

I'm not sure how she knows but it seems like seconds later that my mother hurried into the room.

"Jake?" she asked softly. "How are you feeling?"

Weakly, I gestured to the spit bucket. It was best that I kept my answers short and to the point so I'd have less of a risk of saying something that I shouldn't. It's easier to stay silent than to watch what I say but I don't want to worry them any more than I have to.

"I see," my mom said sympathetically, placing the back of her hand on my forehead. It felt nice and cool. Even if the rest of me feels like I'm back in the arctic, I suppose my head is still burning up after all. "You've still got a fever. I brought you some Cheerios; they're good for an upset stomach. You may want to wait awhile to eat them, though."

I started to nod my head but quickly stopped because that only made my pounding headache worse. "Thanks," I managed to croak out.

"I'll bring you by some soup in a couple of hours if you think you're up to eating that," my mom informed me. "Your father promised to pick some up on the way home from work today."

She had toyed with the idea of going and getting the soup herself earlier but she didn't want to leave me at home alone when I was sick since she could do her work at home and she figured that taking me into the store or leaving me in the car wouldn't have been very good alternatives. I agreed, of course, because going into a store would have only left more time for me to mess up and say something that I shouldn't have.

"Okay," I replied.

I shut my eyes for what felt like just a moment but when I opened them again, my mother had taken the spit bucket, dumped it out, and rinsed it before bringing it back to me.

"Is Rachel sick?" I inquired. It was risky initiating conversation but I would feel so much better if I knew where we stood.

My mother nodded. "She is, yes. Your Aunt Naomi was telling me how she couldn't even eat any solid foods. She thinks that Rachel has what you have. Marco's sick, too. His dad called about an hour ago asking for tips on dealing with a fever. I guess it's been awhile since Marco's been this sick." I wondered what happened when Marco was sick back before his dad pulled himself back together after his mom's supposed death.

Marco was down, too, then. This was just getting worse and worse. There wasn't any way that my mother would know about Tobias so no way to tell if he was sick or not. Maybe I could call Cassie later. And speaking of… "Is Cassie okay?"

"I haven't heard anything," my mom replied. "I can call her if you like and ask."

I shook my head then immediately regretted it as that was almost worse than nodding was. "No, I can call her. Just…not now." Even if Cassie and Tobias weren't sick, there was still no way of knowing how much longer they'd last until they succumbed, too, or if they were going to get lucky and not catch it. It seemed to be hitting all of us at once. It was ridiculous. I'm hardly an expert on the human anatomy but I'm nearly positive that we don't even _have_ a _Tria_ gland. Shouldn't that protect us from getting a _Tria_ gland disease? The stupid thing probably mutated or something.

Cassie wouldn't be able to tell me what the new plan was for dealing with Aftran over the phone because doing something like that was practically _asking_ to get caught and it's not like I'm feeling well enough to contribute to the planning. I'd feel better if I knew because then I'd know what to worry about but it's a luxury we can't afford right now. I hope that whatever she does she factors in the possibility that Visser Three will be there. Sure, he's supposed to be at some seminar (the thought of him going to a seminar is all kinds of bizarre) but Visser Three _always_ finds a way to be there.

"Right now what you need is some sleep," my mom advised me. "I've got some Tylenol, too, for when you're stomach is feeling better. I wouldn't want you to just throw the medicine up."

"No, that wouldn't be good," I agreed tiredly. I think I was going to follow my mother's advice. It was safer when I was sleeping, I thought, as long as I didn't talk in my sleep. I didn't think I did but it's not like there's usually anyone listening.

As my eyelids drooped closed, I could only hope that when I woke up I'd be that much closer to beating this alien flu.

Review Please!


	33. Close Shave

Close Shave

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Jake survived. Cassie found a way to jab a big syringe of adrenaline into him. Enough to wake him up just as her mom was scrubbing up for surgery back at The Gardens. He had to wait two hours for a city bus, but fortunately, Cassie found him a pair of shoes to wear. Cassie's mother was seriously freaked out. Not only had a near-dead tiger simply disappeared. He seemed to have reappeared back in his environment. And there were no signs of injuries. Cassie explained that she did a lot of shrugging and kept saying, "I can't believe it, either, Mom. I was only out of the room for a second." _

-Animorphs #22.

The first thing that I was aware of was the uncomfortable sensation of being shaken. I'm never shaken awake. If my alarm clock doesn't wake me up then my parents will knock on the door until I'm up. Even when the others come and get me in the middle of the night for an emergency, they always wake me up via private thought-speech so that no one else risks waking up. This is different and different is rarely good, particularly when I've just been unconscious.

"Come on, Jake, wake up," Cassie said urgently. "Wake up!"

Why was Cassie here?

{Cassie-} I started to say. Stopped. I wasn't speaking out loud, I was thought-speaking. I was in morph.

I glanced down at myself. Stripes. I was a tiger. There was blood. I was hurt. I couldn't really feel it. Had I been giving any anesthesia or was I just in shock? Where was I?

"Yes," Cassie said, her eyes shining with relief. "Yes, Jake, it's me. Listen, I need you to demorph right now. My mom's scrubbing up for surgery and you can't have much time left in morph. _If-_" She cut herself off.

I knew what she was going to say. If it wasn't already too late and I was trapped as a wounded tiger for the rest of my life. That wasn't a possibility I enjoyed considering. {Is it safe?}

Cassie nodded. "Yeah. Just hurry up and demorph and then I can sneak you out of here."

I didn't need to be told twice. I concentrated on my human form and within minutes was sitting on the operating table in nothing but the usual spandex.

"Oh, you've got blood on your arm," Cassie noticed, grabbing something to wipe it off of me with.

"Can't have that," I agreed. "People will either think I'm hurt or I killed someone and I don't have a wound to show them."

"I'm just so glad that you're awake!" Cassie exclaimed. "When we got there half an hour ago, you were already out but this was the first time I could get near you to try to wake you up."

"It's a good thing your shaking worked then," I remarked.

"Well…my shaking and that large syringe of adrenaline I found," Cassie admitted. "I should really put that back…"

I was immediately concerned. "Is there any chance they'll be able to trace that back to you?"

Cassie shook her head. "I don't think anyone saw me take it and as long as I get you out of here and throw the needle away or something then it should be fine. No one really searches through the trashcans here because of the biohazards and glass."

"Well, that's good," I told her. "The last thing we need is _another_ security hazard."

"Of course, I was the only one in here with you when you 'vanished' so there's that," Cassie pointed out. "I can just say that I went to the bathroom or something. No one's seriously going to suspect me of having something to do with the disappearance of something that weighs that much anyway."

"I hate tempting fate," I complained.

"Come on," Cassie told me, tugging on my hand. She led me to the staff locker room and I had just ducked inside when I heard hurried footsteps coming down the hallway.

"Cassie!" Cassie's mother said, sounding both frantic and confused. "Cassie, he's gone!"

"Who's gone?" Cassie asked, sounding out of the loop but not particularly concerned.

"Our missing tiger!" Cassie's mother explained. "Only it turns out that he wasn't missing after all. I had someone check the exhibit to see how the tiger got out and if any other animals might be missing and he's there and perfectly healthy."

"But…that doesn't make any sense," Cassie protested.

"I know," Cassie's mother agreed grimly. "Tigers are not inconspicuous animals. _That_ tiger wasn't doing very well. I'm not sure that even with surgery it could have made it. There is no way that that tiger just walked out of the operating room. He wasn't even conscious!"

"I can't believe it, either, Mom," Cassie said, shaking her head helplessly. "I was only out of the room for a second. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, honey!" Cassie's mom was quick to assure her. "If you had been there you couldn't have stopped it and if that tiger really did wake up, you might have been hurt. Blame you? Thank _God_ you weren't there is more like it."

"Let me know if you need any help looking for the tiger or anything," Cassie offered. "If not then I'm just going to get something to eat from the vending machine."

"Do you have any change?" Cassie's mom asked her. "What am I saying? It's the middle of the night. Here, take a five."

"Thanks, Mom," Cassie said with a smile as she accepted the money. She waited a few moments until her mother went back the way she came before coming into the room with me.

"Nicely done," I complimented her.

Cassie shrugged. "There's really no logical reason why I would have anything to do with the tiger's disappearance. They don't expect me to have anything to do with it and if I were innocent I wouldn't know anything so that seems a safe bet. And now we have bus money."

"Why do we need bus money?" I asked her blankly. "Thinking ahead?"

"Not so much," Cassie said, shaking her head. "You need to get home somehow. I can ride back with my parents but you aren't supposed to be here and _that_ would be suspicious."

I made a face. "Cassie, come on. Who knows when or where I could catch a bus this time of night and I don't even need one. I can just fly home."

"Jake, you just spent over an hour unconscious and bleeding to death in tiger morph," Cassie said firmly, her hands on her hips. Clearly she wasn't planning on budging on this issue. "I really don't think that you're in any condition to be flying home tonight and David might still be out there. Do you think you could handle another confrontation with him right now?"

I sighed, knowing that she was right. I didn't believe for a second that David wouldn't kill us while we were human if it suited his purposes but given that he made such a big deal about not killing humans just a few short hours ago I could probably count on him keeping his word _tonight_. Rachel and Ax (would he count as a human in his human morph?) were on him, anyway. I really should try and find them but I had no idea where they'd be and would probably just fly around lost and exhaust myself even further, ultimately helping nobody. With any luck, they'd pick up Marco at some point.

"Fine," I said grudgingly. "I'll take the bus." I hoped that Tom wouldn't notice me being dropped off in the middle of the night or having been gone at all but who knew if he were even home? And the Yeerk in my brother's head never does pay much attention to me since he decided that I wasn't about to be convinced to join the Sharing. As long as I was dropped off a little ways away and then morphed and snuck into the house I'd probably be fine. If not…well, I _really_ did not need another problem right now. I had too many as it was.

"I knew you'd see reason," Cassie said cheerfully.

"Yeah, 'reason'," I said with air-quotes. "Waiting around in the middle of the night in skin-tight clothing and no shoes isn't just _asking_ for any unsavory attention at all." Make no mistake, I can take care of myself. The question was whether I could take care of myself _without_ being forced to morph and risk my identity.

"That's actually why we're here," Cassie explained. She grabbed a pair of shoes from on one of the benches. "Here. These look like they're about your size."

I hate wearing shoes without socks because it always feels so uncomfortable but no socks was better than going completely barefoot. I took the proffered shoes and jammed them on my feet. "Yeah, these fit okay."

"We should get going," Cassie told me.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Neither of us moved.

"What happened?" Cassie asked me finally. "David tried to kill you, he actually killed Tobias…all this time we've survived everything the Yeerk Empire has thrown at us and now it's one of our own that's taking us down. How did this happen?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just don't know. I know Marco didn't like him but he seemed like such a normal kid at first. Was it something we did? Did we handle him all wrong? Or was he always a cold-blooded sociopath?"

"I don't think David's a sociopath," Cassie said immediately. "He cares too much about what happened to his parents. That's what this is about, I think. He blames us for what happened to his parents and for dragging him into this war."

"Us?" I bristled. "He's the one who put the morphing cube on EBay and Visser Three's the one who launched an all-out assault on his house!"

"But we're easier targets," Cassie pointed out. "And you're right, we haven't been very accommodating. Marco actually said something about how now his father was working with the Yeerks and we _never_ use family member's status as Controllers against each other. That crosses a definite line."

"I just don't know what Marco's problem with David was," I told her. "Now it looks like he was justified." Of course, I wouldn't tolerate Marco or anyone else saying anything about my brother and Marco was the exact same way about his mother. David had just sort of had to take it when Marco said what he did.

"Still, nothing we did justifies his trying to murder us," Cassie said firmly. "That's absolutely wrong and it won't get him what he wants."

"And it just had the worst possible timing, too," I added. "If David had found the morphing cube a week or so ago it wouldn't be as big of a deal because we could just focus on him and getting him adjusted but it's like everything's happening all at once."

"The barn is no place to have someone sleep," Cassie agreed, nodding. "And it's not even the most hidden of places. We should have taken him to the Chee or something. I'm sure they'd help."

"Well it's too late now," I said grimly. "Regardless of how we might have treated him, Tobias is dead now because of him."

"Dead," Cassie echoed hollowly. "And Rachel's going after David."

"Her and Ax," I confirmed. "Maybe Marco."

"Jake…" Cassie sounded almost frightened. "What if she kills him?"

Truth be told, we would probably need to kill David. How else could we stop him? I didn't think I could stomach doing it in cold blood but if he kept coming after us…maybe Rachel would even do it tonight. Was it selfish to hope that she did, to hope that we wouldn't need to worry about it? Probably. Rachel would be in a dark place tonight and she'd need to live with herself in the morning.

"If she kills him then we'll deal with that," I said finally. "You know that he'd do the same to her and we can't risk him going to Visser Three."

Cassie nodded. "I do," she said softly. "I just wish there was a better way."

"Well, if you find one, be sure to let me know," I requested. I took a step towards the door.

"Be careful, okay, Jake?" Cassie called out suddenly.

I frowned. "Because of David? I don't think he'd come after me twice in one evening. He probably won't even learn that I'm still alive for awhile yet."

"Not just him," Cassie told me. "Rachel told me that they overheard some of the cops at the mall tonight, Controller cops. They knew that it was you."

"Me?" I repeated uncertainly.

"An 'Andalite bandit'," Cassie clarified. "No one reported the escape and a tiger falling from the sky isn't exactly a common occurrence."

I winced. "Damn. They may figure out that there's dissent among the ranks. What happened? Why aren't I dead?"

"They were apparently the only two Controllers on duty," Cassie replied. "We got lucky."

"Lucky indeed," I concurred. "But even the two of them could have done something. They were armed, right?"

Cassie nodded. "Apparently they didn't want to risk blowing their cover. Rachel said that they decided that they didn't need to report 'every little thing' to the Visser."

I laughed incredulously. " 'Every little thing'? There they were with the perfect opportunity to kill or at least capture one of us and they decided not to bother with it? Unbelievable."

"I vote that we don't question our good luck," Cassie suggested. "If they were more committed then I might not have been able to save you or I might have had to kill them."

I nodded. "You're right. I guess everything that could have gone wrong _didn't_ go wrong tonight."

Cassie looked at me gravely. "Enough did."

There was really nothing to say to that. It was true and I didn't want to think about it but somehow I couldn't think of anything else.

Tobias was dead and it was all my fault. I knew that one day one of us would die and that, more than likely, it would be my fault and today I was proven correct.

Tobias was dead because I had sent him chasing after David. I never thought that he'd kill him. I should have. What kind of leader was I that I hadn't considered all the possibilities? David had turned on us and might kill us all and might only make us wish we were dead when he turned us over to the Yeerks. I've been a Controller before and I _cannot_ do that again. I just can't.

There may not be a choice involved. Maybe it's already too late. Cassie, I knew, was safe for now but what about the others? Had David gotten to them as well? I hadn't even seen Marco tonight and I knew that he was the one David hated the most. If he could kill Tobias, who knew what he would do to Marco?

But there wasn't anything I could do right now. I was exhausted and didn't know where to begin looking for them. I'd just have to wait until tomorrow to see what consequences the night had brought and plan accordingly.

One thing I knew for certain: David was going to pay for this.

Review Please!


	34. Cheating

Cheating

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_He moved closer now. His fists were clenched at his side, his jaw seemed to tighten so that the words could barely force their way past bared teeth. I'd seen Tom this way once, just once, when he'd been wrongfully accused of cheating on a test. It was as angry as Tom got, short of punching someone._

-Animorphs #53.

Math is not exactly my best subject and, to be honest, I don't quite understand how it can be _anyone's_ best subject. English has always been easy; you just make something up and as long as you support it you do okay. Maybe some people aren't the best at writing but you don't need to be amazing to pull a solid B. History essays are even easier because then it's nothing but the facts and for History class itself you just memorize a few facts and then promptly forget them once the test is over.

I hate Spanish because no matter how hard I try I just cannot roll my r's and so there are just some words that I will never be able to pronounce properly. Fortunately, oral presentations are just a small part of the class and you really don't need to be fluent in the language to pass. Maybe at some of the higher levels you'll need to be but I'm just taking enough so that I can graduate and hopefully pass a proficiency test at college because, seriously, why would I want to take this class again?

Gym is my absolute favorite class, even if some people insist that it really doesn't count. It's hard not to get an 'A' in gym if you just participate, even if you're not the best…which I am. My main interest is, of course, basketball but if you're good at one sport then I find that you're practically guaranteed to be at least decent at the others. My more studious friends always complain about gym because, unlike most of us, gym actually brings down their GPA since it's not a weighted class and even a perfect 4.0 in it will bring down their 4.3 or whatever average. But what can they do? It's a requirement in our school district.

Science is okay. The labs are easy enough if you follow the directions – but there are so _many_ – but sometimes it has a bad habit of all being connected so the things you learn in chapter three might come back in chapter eight so you had better hope that you understood what was going on at the time and, what's more, are able to remember it.

Math is even worse. In math there is literally _nothing_ that you are allowed to forget. Maybe some formulas if the teacher is being nice and giving them to you on the test but that's hardly a given. If you just space out or aren't there for one day and miss one concept then it can throw you off for the rest of the year. In history if I can't remember, say, which book led to the creation of the FDA then I just lose one point on the test and then it doesn't matter anymore until maybe the final where it's still just one point. Math is far more work than any other class, I find, and I'm the type that tends to dislike those subjects that are determined to cut into my free time.

This year is geometry and I absolutely hate it. I thought algebra was bad last year with all its graphs but _geometry_. Every different shape has so many formulas and you're supposed to be able to keep them all straight. It's maddening. I'm putting far more effort into this class than I am into any other and yet somehow I'm still only managing a C. My parents aren't thrilled, needless to say, and they've started dropping hints about how I'd have more time to study if I didn't spend so many long hours practicing after school.

It will take more than geometry to take basketball away from me. A _lot_ more. It's the one thing I've always been certain that I'm good at and that's the kind of thing you don't give up without a fight.

Last week we had this really difficult geometry test and for the two weeks beforehand, literally all of my spare time went into studying. I even got Jake to help me out and God knows that he understood less of it than I did. I walked out of the classroom convinced that I had failed the test but, ironically, that's actually a good thing. Whenever I think I did well on a test, I am unpleasantly surprised and whenever I think I failed I find that I was really being far too hard on myself.

We're supposed to get the tests back tomorrow but my math teacher, Ms. Hanna (or 'Old Lady Hanna' as everyone calls her), wrote me a pass to meet her at lunchtime and when I did she did not look pleased.

"I graded your test," she said flatly.

My heart constricted a little. Being called in to meet with a teacher was rarely a good thing and when it was concerning a major test it was nearly guaranteed to be a disaster.

"Yes?" I asked as calmly as I could.

Wordlessly, Ms. Hanna handed me back my test and I'll admit that I was almost afraid of what I'd see. Still, the anticipation was probably the worst and once I actually saw it I could start dealing with it.

Ninety-seven out of a hundred. I got a _ninety-seven_ out of a _hundred_. I didn't just pass this test, I _nailed_ it. I rode the tide of euphoria for a moment before it occurred to me that this was great news and so there was no reason why Ms. Hanna appeared so stern and not much of a reason to show me this the day before everyone else got it back. And why hadn't she just held me back after class anyway?

"Tom, you've always been a decent kid and a hard worker," Ms. Hanna said slowly. "I don't want to believe this of you but it's so inconsistent with what I've seen this semester that you know that I really have to ask."

"Have to ask what?" I asked, a feeling of dread coming over me.

"Did you cheat on this test?"

* * *

I didn't go to basketball practice that afternoon. According to the dean, I wouldn't be allowed to until this 'investigation' is all cleared up. This is ridiculous. We have a game on Saturday. An important game. They _need_ me and I'm probably going to be forced to sit it out because I did _too_ well in school. I never knew that you could get in trouble for that but apparently it happens.

I slammed the door behind me when I got home. I didn't mean to but I was so angry that I couldn't really help it.

Jake was sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework and he jumped at the sound of the door. My parents came into the kitchen from the living room, their expressions clearly showing that they knew.

"Jake, honey, why don't you go upstairs for awhile?" my mom suggested. "I'll call you in a little while, okay?"

Jake bit his lip, clearly reluctant to go. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright." Casting one last glance at me, he hurried up the steps, leaving his books still at the table. I thought I saw a tuft of hair sticking out over the half-wall upstairs so I guess he wasn't planning on letting us half this discussion in private. I briefly toyed with alerting my parents so they'd really make him go away but decided against it. I had nothing to hide, after all.

"Tom," my dad began hesitantly. There had never really been a major incident like this before and he was clearly out of his element. "Your teacher called us today."

"I'll bet," I muttered.

"She's very concerned," my mom spoke up. "She said that there was some confusion about your most recent test-"

"There was no confusion," I snapped.

"Don't interrupt your mother," my dad said angrily.

"She seemed to think that there was," my mother said quietly. "Why is that?"

"Probably because she thinks that I'm an idiot and can't get an A on a test without cheating," I said darkly.

"That's not true," my mom protested immediately.

"It sure seems like it," I retorted. "If this had happened to any of the honors kids then you know this wouldn't even be an issue!"

"It's her job to investigate this kind of thing," my dad claimed.

"What kind of thing?" I demanded. My fingernails were digging into my palms but I didn't care. I couldn't unclench them. The indignity and the unfairness of it all was appalling. I just wanted to punch somebody and to hell with the consequences but what was I supposed to do? Attack my parents? That would go over well. I'd sooner die than touch Jake. "The fact that I worked my ass off for _weeks_ and it showed?"

"Language, Tom," my dad rebuked.

"There are more important things than my language!" I ground out, barely able to force the words out. "She has _no reason_ to think that I cheated and now I'm in all kinds of trouble that I don't deserve!"

"Your teacher said that there was a girl who sat next to you who also got a ninety-seven and who made the same mistakes on the one problem you both got wrong," my mom reminded me.

Megan was the kind of girl who would not get over the 'damage' gym was apparently doing to her GPA. It wasn't that she was out of shape or refused to try during class – she was actually on the track team – but her priorities lay elsewhere. She didn't complain about math (at least in front of me) but she probably thought that that was more of a real class than gym and it wasn't as if she couldn't be in a weighted class. As one of the honors students, _of course_ I would be the one who would be assumed to be cheating.

"Well?" my dad asked tensely as the silence stretched on. "Say something."

In a flash, I understood. He actually thought that I might have done this. They both did. I wonder if Jake had any more faith in me than our parents did. I couldn't ask him, though. It would be too awkward and he'd never tell me if he doubted me anyway.

"Are you serious?" I demanded heatedly. I honestly don't think I've ever been this upset. Maybe when I was later I'd see that to be something to be grateful for, that an untrue accusation that had _better_ blow over was the worst thing that's ever happened to me but I just can't find that perspective right now. "How can you even think I did this?"

"We don't think anything of the sort!" my mom objected. "Really, Tom, we don't! We just need to hear from your mouth what happened."

"What happened," I repeated, laughing bitterly. "What happened was that I actually managed to learn all the material and do amazing on the test. What happened was that the one problem I missed was the one that everyone missed and I just happened to make the same common mistake that Megan did. What happened is that no one seems to trust me and I can understand that from a teacher but _really_? You don't trust me either?"

"Just tell us that you didn't do it," my mom all but pleaded.

"So what?" I asked harshly. "You think I'd be willing to cheat on a test and be so stupid about it that I'd copy literally everything which any idiot could tell you would be just _asking_ to get caught but that I'd be honest with you about it afterwards?"

"That's what we're hoping," my dad replied. "I want you to know that we'll believe you no matter what you say."

"I didn't do it," I practically spat out, stomping towards the front door again. "I'll be back by curfew."

"Tom-" my mother started to say before the door slammed shut again. That poor, abused door. I didn't want to hear it, though. I didn't care about their reasons. I didn't care if they believed me but felt the need to ask anyway. It felt like everywhere I turned, I was faced with more undeserved suspicion.

I'm sure one day, when I can't pay my rent or I get laid off or some other adult problem, I'll look back on this moment and wish that all of my problems were this small but for now this sucks and that's what matters.

Review Please!


	35. Planning a Deception

Planning a Deception

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_She took my hands. {I did not tell Arbat about your friends. But I did not have to. He was in the barn, too. In a bird morph.} _

_{Yes, I know,} I answered. _

_Her stalk eyes whipped around in amazement. {You knew?{_

_I nodded. {We all knew. Or at least suspected.} …_

_Estrid looked at me, half amazed, half angry. {It was all a deception. You misled us. You lied to your own people.}_

-Animorphs #38.

I remember a time when I used to honestly believe that the Andalites cared about Earth and would rush to her defense, even if it would take a year or so to get here from their planet. How could I not? Elfangor promised such and Elfangor genuinely cared about Earth. I don't want to think that Elfangor was intentionally lying to us (though he might have thought that false hope was better than none at that point and didn't want us to be crushed by despair after his revelation) but perhaps he just honestly thought that they _would_ try again.

It's been over two years since Elfangor died and we've seen a few Andalites since then. Ax survived the battle that killed Elfangor and we spent a little bit of time winning the war on Leera. Yeah, I know that realistically if we weren't there the Andalites probably could have found someone else but we so rarely get a victory that big that I like to think of it as _us_ winning it…even if Ax was the only one to last long enough to destroy the land-mass. The Andalites really were going all-out for Leera in a way they continue not to for us and I understand that the Leerans telepathy made that imperative but you'd think that our sheer numbers would make us some sort of a priority.

And now there are four new Andalites to deal with. Estrid, Arbat, Aloth, and Gonrod. My initial opinion is that they will be more of a liability than an asset and that I'm not going to like them. Gonrod was so arrogant that he actually presumed that though his quartet wasn't even there to try to stop the Yeerks, he could presume to tell us to stop fighting for our planet. And for what? We weren't good enough to fight their enemies? It's absurd. Infuriating, too, but I can't afford to let my personal feelings get in the way.

Ax felt the need to show off in front of Estrid and, while I would have preferred he showed some more restraint, I suppose I can understand it. My worry is that she's the first Andalite female we've ever met and she seemed young. That might…complicate things for Ax given his crush though I trusted him to have our back regardless after the disaster aboard the _Ascalin_. Still, we don't need complications. And since these Andalites can morph, we face the same security problem we did when David was still around. Now, in morph flying away from their ship, might be our only chance to plan for the worst-case scenario.

{So what do we make of that?} I asked.

{I love how they're talking about how the need to kill Visser Three because it is an 'embarrassment' to the Andalite people and Arbat needs vengeance,} Marco said sardonically.

{They wouldn't send an assassination squad just because he needs vengeance but I'd imagine that, even if they don't seem all that bothered by all the other races the Yeerks are enslaving, the fact that they managed to take one entire Andalite in the three decades since the war started is really hurting their morale,} Tobias replied.

{Morale is important,} Ax said defensively. {We have no idea how much longer this war will go on and we Andalites have sacrificed much to fight in. And we always know, even if we do not like to admit it, that if the Yeerks take enough species – maybe even just take Earth – then they will come after us.}

{It does come off as _really_ arrogant and, what's the word, elitist that they are so much more worried about their one Controller than the thousands of human-Controllers here,} Rachel pointed out.

{And more than just the Andalites' fixation on _one person_, it's the fact that Visser Three isn't just anyone. Sure, if we kill him there will be a new Visser Three but he won't be nearly as dangerous. Visser Three has an annoying tendency to turn into a monster at the slightest provocation. No one else has proven this difficult to kill. In personal combat, he might be able to take all of us depending on the morph,} Marco explained. {Killing him would take out their most effective fighter and make all of our jobs a lot easier, never mind the _embarrassment_.}

{Maybe they just don't want to admit that he uses morphs more effectively than anyone on their side,} Tobias theorized.

{But do we even believe that that's what they are being sent to do?} I inquired.

{Why wouldn't they?} Rachel asked, puzzled.

{I just can't believe that they would send somebody to assassinate their own brother,} Cassie said, appalled. {I mean, who would think that that was a good idea?}

{Not everyone has a fairy-tale family, Cassie,} Marco pointed out. {Maybe they weren't close enough for them to think that it would be an issue and it's been, what, twenty years now since it happened?}

{Except it clearly _was_ an issue,} I pointed out. {All the Visser had to do was call Arbat's name before he hesitated and was disarmed.}

{Can I just say that it was _very disturbing_ the way that Visser Three was chatting with Arbat?} Marco asked. {Because _creepy_.}

{It's not just about me thinking that everyone has a great family,} Cassie insisted. {It's about more than that. Even if Arbat wasn't close enough to Alloran or was the kind of person who could kill his brother anyway, why would they risk it when if they sent someone else they wouldn't have to wonder?}

{Perhaps there was no one else,} Ax suggested.

{No, they said that Aloth was the assassin,} Tobias disagreed. {So it's not even a case of Arbat being the only one they trusted could make a difficult shot. Why send him?}

{What if that's not even what they're after?} I asked them.

{If not that, then what?} Rachel asked.

{I don't know,} I admitted. {And that's dangerous. I don't _like_ not knowing. I think we really need to fix this.}

{How?} Cassie asked. {Spying on them?}

{Ax would be our best spy,} I decided. {They practically expected Ax to join them back there anyway.}

{They'd never trust that,} Ax argued. {They would suspect that I am merely reporting to you since the meeting did not…work out as productively as it could have.}

{Yes but what if we break up?} I proposed.

{Should Cassie be here for this conversation, Jake?} Marco deadpanned.

I ignored him. {If we break up the group then it would free us up to spy on the Andalites without them worrying about us.}

{Would they go for that?} Rachel wondered. {They already saw some of what we're capable of with that snake thing.}

It was a fair point. {Ax?}

He hesitated. {They expected you to be in awe of them despite their small size and thought they could issue commands to you because they were Andalites. I do not think that the trap we set for them, as effective though it was, will be enough to realize that they are being fooled.}

{They can't realize that we know that they're watching us,} Cassie pointed out. {Because otherwise they might suspect something. But if we're being spied on then how will we know for sure that one of them is watching when we stage a fight? We don't want to stage it multiple times and have them catch us doing it twice.}

{Technically, I don't know that that it is absolutely essential for them to _see_ us fighting though it would certainly help our cause,} I declared. {We know that Andalites don't always have a lot of morphing experience unless they're in intelligence and so they may not know enough about spying or about Earth animals to act natural so we could spot them that way. I think we should just stage one huge fight and then, audience or not, send Ax to the Andalites.}

{What would we be fighting about?} Tobias wondered. {I mean, wouldn't the timing seem a bit…convenient.}

{Not if we're fighting about them,} Marco said. {We can pitch it as a simple case of disillusionment. We've been fighting all this time solely because we're waiting for the great and glorious Andalites to come rescue us and now that we know they couldn't care less even after we won Leera for them, it's simply too much for us. We can't do it anymore.}

As if it were ever just about waiting for the Andalites. We were doing it because we couldn't bear to know and do nothing, even back before we managed to get our act together and start doing some major damage.

{I like it,} I told him. {Play on the fact that they expect it from us anyway.}

{So we all just say, 'you know what, this is pointless. Let's stop?'} Rachel asked skeptically.

{Nothing as obvious as that,} I assured her. {We have a fight with some being for it and some being against and in the course of the argument everyone ends up leaving.}

{I think that, even if they wouldn't know the difference, it would be easier for us if everyone kept their own opinions and just…exaggerated them a little,} Cassie offered. {It would not only be easier for us to stay consistent but easier for us to know what to expect from each other and thus look more natural.}

{So I could go back to my early beliefs about the war and say that we shouldn't get involved,} Marco said slowly. {I could go the route of the Andalites aren't going to save us so we're doomed and therefore might as well spend the rest of our lives enjoying ourselves, like those people in movies who find out they have a terminal disease. Or…like David. Dear God, I'm going to have to be David in this situation.}

{Well my part won't be much better,} Cassie told him. {I'm usually the one bringing up morality so I'll have to insist that it is morally wrong to kill Visser Three.}

{_Can_ you actually say that it's morally wrong to kill Visser Three with a straight face?} I wondered.

{I've done brain surgery and a solo expedition to the Yeerk Pool in one evening,} Cassie said dryly. {I'm sure I can manage this. I don't think I can be the first person to quit but once everyone starts talking about how we can't win then I can start talking about how if we're going to lose then it's not justified to kill Hork-Bajir anymore and bring back some of the issues I had right around the time I met Aftran.}

{Why just the Hork-Bajir?} Ax asked. {Why not the humans? My people would expect more of a concern for your own people than for another species.}

{True but we don't really kill humans,} Cassie countered. {They probably won't know that but we don't want to get caught in a lie or they might start doubting the whole thing.}

{I'm going to warn you now that I'm probably going to have to get a little nasty, Cassie,} Marco cautioned her. I hoped that he wouldn't do anything _too_ over the top. Usually, he knew when to draw the line but he proved with David that he could get a lost nastier than he normally was. {In a real falling apart fight when you really lose respect for people you tend to be a bit more obnoxious than you would in a regular argument.}

{If you think that it would help then by all means,} Cassie told him. {I'll try not to take it personally.}

{I think I should be the first to go,} Tobias spoke up. {And I should probably be pretty quiet before then anyway. I'm mostly a _nothlit_ and if the Andalites don't already know that then they'll probably figure it out. As such, I'm a bit more isolated from you guys anyway and could decide to go lose myself in hawk instincts.}

{I want to use the words 'Geneva convention warfare' and how I'm not going to be following that anymore, even if the Andalites won't know what that is,} Rachel informed us. {We were studying that in history last week and it kind of reminded me of this.}

{I assume you'll be taking a hard-line approach?} I asked rhetorically.

{Absolutely,} Rachel confirmed. {I can be one of those loose cannon cops. 'If I'm going down then I'm taking all of you with me!' and all that. I'll be sick of taking orders from Jake and of Marco's pessimism and Cassie's morality and just storm off.}

{Oh, that's another thing,} Cassie said suddenly. {We all know how much I value life so what if I start objecting to assassinating Visser Three because then Alloran would die, too, and that's just not right. It's cowardly to die even in the face of years of unbearable agony and plenty more where that came from, you know.}

Marco choked. {Now _that_ is audacity. You really think they'll buy that?}

{I think I can sell it,} Cassie said, sounding pleased at the compliment. {If they keep pretending, like you said, that this isn't such a strategic decision then I can completely fail to grasp this, too. If that doesn't lower their opinion of us, I don't know what will.}

{I just had an idea,} Rachel announced. {This was actually something I was really looking to do a few weeks ago with the inspector but we kind of ran out of time.}

{I'm going to guess that I'm not going to like this plan,} Marco said, groaning.

{Go on,} I prompted.

{I think that, for my role as a 'loose cannon cop', I should morph a grizzly bear and terrorize that Yeerk McDonalds,} Rachel told me.

{But we would be in the barn and not a McDonalds,} Ax replied. {Would we be expected to follow you to the McDonalds?}

Rachel paused for a moment before quickly rallying. {We could do a follow-up to make it more convincing or in case no one was watching the first time. Ax asks Estrid or someone to come check on us and then lets us know when he arrives so we can start.}

{I like this plan,} Marco declared. {Cassie can see it happen and go report it and I will, for the sake of realism, be hanging out snacking and reading magazines in the barn.}

{What are you going to do Jake?} Tobias asked.

{I think that, as the leader, I shouldn't really have a melt-down like you guys but instead just lose control of you,} I replied. {I won't really say much during the meeting and you'll all press me for answers that I won't have, thus causing you to turn on me, too, and storm out.}

{I think that I should be quiet as well and leave the bulk of the arguing to Rachel, Cassie, and Marco,} Ax spoke up. {This will help to convince anyone watching that I am disconnected and not really one of you.}

{I think that you should refuse to leave me even though once everyone else is gone that's the only sane thing to do,} I suggested. {After all, it will show how loyal you are even when those you are loyal to don't deserve it and would help explain away your behavior today in insisting that I be treated as your prince. You'll come up to me once everyone else has gone, remind me that you're still pledged to me, and I'll release you so you can go with the Andalites.}

{Not involving me in the fight will also explain why I wish to see how you are doing as I would not be mad,} Ax said agreeably. {Where will you be during the second phase?}

{Oh man, are we actually doing that?} Marco complained.

{We'll never get a better opportunity,} Rachel pointed out.

{I don't see why we need to do it at all,} Marco said frankly.

{Because nothing says 'out of control vigilante' like attacking a public place just because it's run by Controllers,} Rachel countered.

{…Okay, you might have a point,} Marco admitted.

{You know, I actually hadn't thought about that,} I admitted. {I guess that if the whole gist of my part is that I've lost control and broken under the weight of knowing the Andalites don't care that I can be off hiding in Cassie's barn from Tom because I can just no longer deal with living with a Controller.}

{So after this I pretend to work with the other Andalites and try to find some way to be alone with the computers so we can bring in the Chee,} Ax decided. {They will likely be too well encrypted for me to break them as fast as we need. You make sure to keep watching and get involved if we find anything suspicious.}

{Alright, I think we have everything we need,} I announced. {Everyone go home and then tomorrow meet at Cassie's at ten and get ready to put on a show.}

{Remember the good old days when the _Yeerks_ were our enemies?} Marco asked wistfully. {Because between the Peace Movement and this, I'm really starting to miss those days…}

Review Please!


	36. Feels Like Failure

Feels Like Failure

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I didn't get pregnant on purpose. It wasn't that I didn't want the baby, I just hadn't expected to get pregnant. But I was young and newly married and didn't take any precaution so in hindsight it's not all that surprising that it happened.

The thought of being a mother genuinely scared me to death. I still hadn't felt completely grown-up yet and didn't know how I would manage. I had heard all the horror stories of morning sickness and being awoken at all hours in the morning by an infant who simply will not stay asleep. I dragged Steve to a bookstore one night and bought every single parenting book they had. He tried to be supportive but I could tell that he found the entire thing incredibly amusing. I have to admit that I only managed to work my way through half of them and I still didn't feel like I knew what I was doing.

I managed, though. Pregnancy was an absolutely horrible experience, yes, but it was ultimately worth it and while the first few months left me almost constantly sleep-deprived, eventually things did settle down. Of course, by that point I had found myself pregnant again but at least then I knew what to expect.

Steve always used to joke that Tom was our test baby and wherever we went wrong with him we made sure to try to correct for Jake. Of course, we still made mistakes with him, too, but I'd like to think that we made fewer of them as we gained more experience.

Things were so alarming when they were younger. What if the person we hired to babysit got frustrated and shook the baby? What if they put something into their mouth that they shouldn't have and either suffocated or was poisoned? What if they got SIDS? Was putting the baby on his stomach or back the best way to avoid that? Why did the baby turn orange (that, at least, we got an answer for in the diet)? What if someone abducted them? What if I raised them to be spoiled or too shy or just plain horrible people?

Fortunately, I was one of the lucky ones and none of that happened. I'd like to think that I wasn't unreasonable or clingy about my fears but who really knows? I doubt you'd find many clingy people with enough self-awareness to be able to admit to it.

The older my boys got, the safer I felt. As they grew, they learned more and were better able to take care of themselves. I started to relax and trust that things would work out okay and that I must be an okay mother after all.

I actually believed that until only a week ago. To be fair, I _did_ notice a change in both of my sons. I almost wish that I hadn't noticed the change in Tom because I honestly thought that the change was for the better. A Yeerk had come into my home and stolen my son and I felt that this was a good thing. The fact that I didn't know can't possibly make up for the fact that, for all practical purposes, I had preferred a Yeerk out to enslave us all to my own son.

It's just…Tom had always been a good kid and he was a wonderful older brother, always taking the time to play with Jake and trying to set a good example for him. The most trouble we ever had was with the cheating scare and he turned out not to have even done that. Still, my son was a teenager and with that came certain characterizations. Tom slept through his alarm half the time. He never remembered to call and tell us when he would be getting home. He always had to be reminded to do his chores and he put his homework off until right before bedtime.

Then, one day, things changed. He stopped arguing with us, started waking up on time, and always called and told us where he was and when he'd be getting back (even if I've since learned that the 'where' wasn't always true). He did his chores without having to be asked and got his homework done right after he came home. He even started eating healthier and got better grades. How could I not have thought that this was an improvement?

If it was really Tom, it would have been. But of course, it wasn't. It was the Yeerk trying to avoid conflict and suspicious as he worked to destroy all of humanity. All this time and I never even knew. I'm not even sure when this all started but it must have been years now. _Years_.

And then there's Jake. It's hard to tell which story's worse. As far as I know, he's never been a Controller but it's not like I have any way of knowing one way or another and that's not the only fate anyone with any sense would hope to avoid. He was thirteen and so I thought that the distance that was slowly springing up between him and all of us and the fact that on the rare occasions that he was home he was always tired or irritable was perfectly normal. Perfectly normal. There is _nothing_ normal about what my son's been through.

The Yeerks have no way of knowing for sure but as far as they can tell, it was the Andalite Prince Elfangor who gave my son the ability to morph and dragged him into this hellish war. They knew children were around and might have seen something when Elfangor was being killed and the Andalite Bandits showed up only a few days later, which was why they were assumed to have been survivors of the battle. Now that we all know that they're mostly human, it seems likely it's them. According to Visser One, that's just the sort of foolishly sentimental thing that Elfangor would do.

I don't know how I feel about that. Or rather, I do but there's conflicting reactions and I'm not sure which one is stronger.

There's anger. How _dare_ he drag my son into this? He was just a child! He was barely old enough to stop eating off of the children's menu and was still having his first crush! War is a terrible thing for anyone to get caught up in but there is nothing so horrific as a child soldier. I'm not sure how the Andalites do things but if Elfangor knew anything at all about Earth, if he actually fathered a human son, then he had to have known that. He did it anyway. What did he expect would happen?

It wasn't his fault that he landed right in front of Jake and his friends but what he did next was absolutely his fault. I'm torn on whether telling him about the Yeerks at all was a good idea. On the one hand, there was likely nothing he could have done about it and it would have terrorized and traumatized him while still leaving him helpless and unlikely to have been believed. It would have put him at risk for infestation as he was a security threat to the invasion now. Even just seeing Elfangor and fleeing before he heard anything would have made him a risk.

But if Elfangor hadn't told him anything, he would have had no reason not to tell everyone what he had seen. No reason at all not to have told Tom. The Yeerk in Tom would have taken that information and destroyed Jake. Death or infestation, he would have been shattered either way. At least if Jake knew then he could try to avoid infestation. It must not have taken long to have worked out what the Sharing really was and he could have known to stay away from that. But then he'd have to live with the fact that his brother was a Controller and not be able to do a thing about it without the Yeerks coming after us all. And him knowing wouldn't even do anything for Tom because he'd never know that Jake did. All that knowledge and only a slightly better chance of avoiding infestation…

Of course Jake got involved with the war once Elfangor gave him the power to morph. He couldn't have done otherwise. His sense of responsibility is almost overdeveloped, I think, and with the situation with Tom…But what did a group of thirteen-year-olds know about fighting a war? If I had been told about Jake and the others getting the power to morph and deciding to try to fight the Yeerks and then asked what happened, I'd guess that they either got themselves violently killed very quickly or they lived long enough for the Yeerks to infest them and gain five more morph-capable hosts. I would have thought that nothing good or useful could have possibly resulted from this.

And yet…and yet that's not what happened, not at all. That's where the relief comes in. Jake was not caught. Jake was not killed. Jake was not _helpless_. Somehow or other, he had learned how to become a warrior and he's been spending the last three years dealing blow after blow to the Yeerks. Virtually any major offensive they tried was countered. My son. It seems he and his friends (with at least one Andalite) are the only ones really fighting for Earth right now.

For all that I have difficulty believing that a few children could be holding back the invasion to this extent, I know that if it weren't for Jake then the Yeerks would have been able to go forth with no opposition whatsoever and who knows how much further they would have been by now? They certainly would have managed to fully take California by now.

So that's where it stands. My son, who should never have even been involved in this war, is the only reason why there's any hope at all. He can continue stopping their big moves but more and more people are infested by the day and if the Yeerks decide to come out into the open then how can he stand against their full might? I don't know. I don't think he can.

That's why I can't bring myself to completely hate Elfangor. I resent him, naturally, for making Jake a part of this but he's not the one who brought the Yeerks here and he was only trying to help. And he did help. Without Jake, the situation would truly be hopeless and that our one last hope is a bunch of teenagers might just be the most pathetic thing about this entire situation.

What does he have? A handful of morph-capable friends who if they die in morph will die for real? A colony of free Hork-Bajir who are all too reliant on their own child Seer to tell them what to do? Some way of pretending to be safe at home with us when they were really out getting themselves killed? How can they win with that?

I should have faith in Jake. I _do_ have faith in Jake. But things look as impossible as they ever did and I don't see how Jake can win. Neither can the Yeerks. That would definitely give him the element of surprise, if he does manage to come up with something.

I tried to teach Jake chess once but he never did quite manage to learn it. He always had to be reminded of which piece could move where and had difficulty thinking beyond just one or two moves ahead. He'd do the right thing for that turn but then get taken completely by surprise when I took his own pieces.

Life isn't a game of chess and neither is war. He can have failed to learn that a few years back and still win here. I keep trying to convince myself of that but…he's so _young_. I don't see how he's already managed to accomplish what he has, much less how he long he can keep this up. Was it just luck? Skill? Are there even any _adults_ involved in this? I almost hope there aren't because if there were any responsible adults around and they let Jake get involved in this then I'm going to have to kill them at some point.

The Yeerk in my head would like that. That's right, there is a Yeerk in my head. Not right now, no, but usually. Now the Yeerk needs to feed so I'm all alone in a cage at the Yeerk Pool, watching the people watching me. I wonder if Tom and Steve get this same treatment. Probably but I wouldn't know. It would appear that, despite there not being anything remarkable about me, my connection to who the Yeerks suspect is the leader of the resistance makes me an object of curiosity all the same. I don't really care what they think, though.

Jake is out there every day, alone and probably scared, trying to win a war that just can't be won. His entire family is being used against him and I just know that he's blaming himself. He shouldn't. He can't blame himself for what the Yeerks do to try to hurt him.

It's strange, when you really think about it. The Yeerks come after Steve and I because of Jake's resistance and I can't even begin to blame him for that. And yet…the fact that my son grew up to fight a desperate, insane war and I continued to punish him for his grades or his breaking curfew because I never saw it I _can_ blame myself for. I can blame myself for the fact that I never noticed Tom's infestation when no one _ever_ notices.

This kind of thinking won't do anyone any good. It would just amuse the Yeerk and horrify my family but I can't help it. Somehow we ended up puppets to advance the Yeerk invasion and to try to shatter Jake's resolve and I just can't believe that is one of those things that just happened.

The Yeerks bear the brunt of the blame but I have to wonder how we ended up getting in this position to begin with?

Review Please!


	37. Eulogy

Eulogy

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: So I've never had to write a eulogy before…

_The memorial was to be held outside. Fortunately, it was a nice day. You could see the Pacific Ocean from the spot in the cemetary where Rachel's monument would be placed. There was an honor guard of free Hork-Bajir. Two dozen Andalite warriors stood at attention. Our friend and ally General Doubleday was there and quite a few men and women in uniform. _

_Jake and Marco and me and Ax. We all gave little speeches. The President of the United States was there. He gave a speech, too. I guess Rachel would have liked it, in her own way. She would have laughed. She would have thought it was all way over the top, but at the same time, she would have liked the attention. Would have, but she was just a few ounces of ash in a jar resting inside an open wooden box. _

_-Animorphs #54. _

When my Aunt Naomi saw me arrive at Rachel's memorial service, I thought for a minute that she would attack me. It's actually the first time that I've seen her since I got her daughter killed and I wouldn't blame her. Everyone's making me out to be some sort of hero and frankly it's a little sickening. I made Rachel go on a suicide mission to kill my brother (no, not made. That's not right. No one could ever really _make_ Rachel do anything) and all of that might have been avoided if only I'd made different choices.

It's only been two days since I watched them die and already I'm driving myself crazy thinking of all the ways that it could have been different. Of course, as much as I hate to admit it we _did_ need Tom's Yeerk (even just thinking his name is causing my heart to seize up. I know Rachel's death was a betrayal but so was his and it feels like murder on top of that) and had I done the right thing and killed that _thing_ then who knows where we'd be now? Caught between two callous superpowers most likely. I'm not sure if that makes it worse or not.

Tobias was likely observing the memorial service. He loves Rachel too much to miss this and I'm sure he won't have killed himself in two days, even though I'm not sure what he's going to do in the long-term. The rest of us are here, though, and have given eulogies. Tobias wouldn't have given one even had he openly attended, I don't think. His love for Rachel isn't something he'd want to share with the rest of the world.

Cassie's eulogy was sweet and touching, of course, and she started crying half-way through it. I wanted to be up there with her, my hand on her shoulder, helping her get through it but I couldn't. I should have but I can't and I don't even know why. Cassie gave the Yeerks the morphing cube that let that Controller turn into a polar bear and kill her but I thought I had forgiven her for that. The Taxxons wouldn't have allied with us if it weren't for that and my brother would have been killed weeks ago once we reclaimed the morphing cube…if I hadn't killed him myself to get it back. I had asked her to marry me and she said yes if I asked her in a year. A year. I can't even imagine. I do wonder if I will. I killed her best friend. She hasn't shown any sign of blaming me.

Marco's eulogy was surprisingly somber but then, Rachel was dead and she was one of us. He spoke of the lighter side of Rachel's personality, of how he called her Xena and her love for shopping and of their seemingly endless banter. Ax spoke of her skill as a warrior and how honored he was to serve beside her, of how much her sacrifice had meant. The President was supposed to speak soon but what can he possibly say? What does he really know of Rachel? Only the basic facts, to be sure, and that she is dead. It's a nice gesture, I suppose.

In the meantime, it's my turn. I was up all last night trying to think of what to say. What _could_ I say? Aunt Naomi was probably right; I shouldn't even be here. And yet…how could I _not_? How dare I not even attend Rachel's memorial after being the one to put events into motion that led to her death? My parents, seated on either side of me, give me supportive looks as I stand and slowly make my way to the podium. At least I had them back. I wasn't sure if I had properly let them know just how much I had missed them but with any luck I would have _years_ to let them know. I shouldn't put it off, though. You never knew what might happen.

I looked out at all the faces in the crowd. Not all of them were human and I didn't know everybody. _Rachel_ wouldn't have known everybody but they were here to honor her and that was enough. I saw Melissa Chapman sitting near the back. It looked like she made it through more-or-less in one piece. Rachel would have been pleased. I was vaguely glad that Ax hadn't had to kill her father. I took a deep breath. "I've known Rachel my entire life. My first clear memory of her was when we were three or so and I had just gotten a brand new wagon and the two of us played with it. Of course, Rachel's idea of playing with it was her sitting in the wagon while I pulled her all around our block. Being Rachel, of course that's what ended up happening because that's just the sort of person Rachel was: the kind who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

"It's hard to believe looking back now, but there was once a time when Rachel _did_ play with Barbie dolls and those girl toys that they have in Happy Meals at McDonalds. Her mom always got her the career Barbies like Doctor Barbie or Astronaut Barbie to try to set a positive example for her while her dad was always determined to avoid turning her into a girly-girly by insisting on buying her cars and trucks to play with. Well, it half-worked. Rachel _never_ looked like she'd be out of place on a runway but you also secretly knew that she could beat you up if she wanted to." Even before the Yeerks, really, though I'd never admit it. "Rachel played with both and even managed to combine them, believe it or not. She used to line up all of her dolls and all of her cars and trucks and plot world domination. Watching her going at it, I really thought she could do it. Fortunately for the world at large, she eventually grew out of that stage.

"We played together a lot as children, though we sadly grew apart when we got older. I thought girls had cooties and she thought boys were filthy. It wasn't like Rachel minded doing any of the things that got us so muddy in the first place, she just would rather have fun _and_ still look like she had just gotten dressed.

"All of that changed when we found out about the Yeerks. It was an accident, really," I admitted. Already I could tell that that wasn't what people wanted to hear. They wanted us to have noticed that something was wrong and investigate and get involved entirely on purpose and start kicking ass from day one. That would be unlikely in the best of cases and certainly not at thirteen. Maybe if the Yeerks caught us at _thirty_.

"Strange, I know, that the resistance that ended up saving the planet wasn't something that any of us really planned but there you have it. We were all normal kids, back then, and just thirteen. When I was younger, I used to worry about turning eighteen and getting drafted and now here I am, not even old enough to enlist but already the veteran of a war. I look at thirteen-year-olds now and think 'My God, they're only children. They're far too young to fight.' And yet, we were called upon and so we did." I did, in fact, have a bit of that reaction upon first seeing James' people. James' people who as far as I knew were all dead and who I really had forced into that last battle. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway and people are calling me a hero.

"It all started at the mall on a Friday night. It was just your ordinary Friday night, to be honest. I was upset that I hadn't made the basketball team at school so Marco and I were playing video games to try to take my mind off of it. Tobias ran into us when we were about to leave and didn't want to walk home alone. Then I saw Rachel and Cassie shopping and so it was the five of us going through that construction site. It was actually because of Rachel that we took that path instead of the long way around," I said thoughtfully.

"By all accounts, we really should have taken the long way. We'd have more time to talk, my parents had threatened to ground me until I was twenty if I went through the construction site, it just wasn't safe, and we were all secretly terrified of going through it at night. But Rachel had issued a challenge when she asked if we thought that she and Cassie needed 'big strong men' to protect them so what else could we do?

"None of us wanted to be caught up in the war, you know. I guess that maybe that sounds selfish but we were thirteen and terrified and convinced that we would just end up getting ourselves killed…if we were lucky," I added, almost as an afterthought. None of us had ever wanted to die but the worst part was knowing that death wasn't even the worst thing that awaited us. Torture wasn't even the worst thing that awaited us. Our worst-case scenario was something that some people had lived with for years, for decades, _their entire lives_. Something I had just allowed to happen to _him_ for years on end before I had him killed. "Rachel was just as scared as we were but she wanted to do the right thing. She couldn't have just watched Elfangor be murdered and then heard about the ongoing enslavement and destruction of our species and _do nothing_.

"A lot of people called Rachel fearless. I know that I've done so in the past but I really don't think that was true. She had just as much fear as the rest of us, she just knew how to hide it better. Some people would say that admitting that she was afraid is admitting weakness on her part but I don't think that's true either. It's easy to face death and torture and _infestation_ when you're not afraid. It's easy to do anything if you're fearless. It doesn't mean as much. But if you are perfectly, justifiably afraid and you do it anyway…_that_ is courage and that's what's truly remarkable. Rachel was afraid but you'd never know it and that's what made her so strong." Rachel's apparent fearlessness wasn't always a good thing, of course, but I wasn't about to sully Rachel's memory by needlessly complicating the issue with things like Rachel's growing bloodthirstiness and the fact that we honestly had no idea how she'd cope with post-war life.

"Rachel had an opportunity to leave the war behind, you know. None of us really felt that we could ignore the war while it was going on in our hometown because, if nothing else, the invasion would keep progressing and we were all at risk." I don't want people to think that we fought the war for selfish reasons because we didn't. We didn't think we could win and we just wanted to protect people and there's nothing selfish about that. But at the same time Rachel's decision is so much more meaningful if you know about what it was like back then. "Everyone we know, everyone we loved. Once, a few short weeks into our fight, Rachel's dad decided to move out of state and he offered to take Rachel with him. It was an incredible opportunity for her. Rachel had always loved gymnastics, even if she didn't have as much time for it towards the end. Carla Belnikoff taught gymnasts who went to the _Olympics_ and who won medals in that new town and Rachel stood a good chance of being accepted into her program. There was so much to do there and she could have flown back every weekend if she wanted to.

"She couldn't have been expected to fight a war from so far away and the Yeerks wouldn't have been her problem anymore. It was even more tempting because this had been before we had scored any major victories against the Yeerks and so it wasn't even as if her leaving seemed like it would hurt the fight against them. At that point in time we had gone to the Yeerk Pool to let the Yeerks know that we existed, which ended up leaving Tobias trapped and with only one free woman to show for it. We had learned a little more about the Yeerks but also nearly gotten an innocent girl infested. We had found Ax at the bottom of the ocean and destroyed two minor Yeerk vessels." Sometimes I don't know how we had made it through those early days when we were still learning how to fight. The situation seemed more hopeless then than it even had when we knew that the Andalites were coming to destroy us and had no plan for defeating the Yeerks. We hadn't managed _anything_ and it was really only the thought of _him_ that kept me going. For all the good that did.

"We had gotten the Yeerks to shut down their plan to use a hospital to infest then-governor Pete Wilson and to gain two hundred new Controllers a month by infesting all of their patients. That last one does sound impressive, I'll admit, but the Yeerks shut down that hospital more for the fear of what we'd do since we knew about it than because of anything we had actually done. We did deal major blows to the Yeerks, of course, but that came later. At the time, it seemed like her staying wouldn't hurt the Yeerks and her leaving would only give her more time before the end.

"Still, Rachel chose to stay." I still marvel at that. If I had been in Rachel's shoes and it hadn't have been for…would I have been able to do that? I'd like to think I would but, in truth, I just don't know. "She had the best opportunity any of us had ever had to walk away and she turned it down. She refused to be safe and have a normal life if it meant abandoning the people the Yeerks had stolen to their fate. She stayed and she fought all the battles and endured all the nightmares when she didn't have to because it was the right thing to do and she couldn't have done any less.

"Our first major blow to the Yeerks came with the destruction of their Kandrona, their food supply. Rachel was the one to actually figure out where that was and deal us our first real victory. If she had chosen to leave, we might never have found it and we might never have grown to be the people who ultimately brought the invasion force to its knees. The fact of the matter is that we needed Rachel and we couldn't have done it without her.

"We couldn't have saved the world without Rachel, even at the end. The end," I echoed. "The war's end, _Rachel's_ end. We didn't know what kind of forces the Andalites were sending and if they'd win the inevitable battle between them and the Yeerks for Earth. We hoped they would but we couldn't risk it." Technically, that was true. If given a Sophie's Choice between everyone dying and everyone being infested, we would all prefer to die. Maybe it wasn't our right to decide that but it's not like we just waited around and let others decide our fate. " We needed to get things settled before the Andalites showed up. We worked everything out so we could win…everything, except one small, very vital, detail. The Yeerk who promised to work with us and who took command of the Blade Ship was lying. He wanted us dead." He was always _a_ Yeerk but now he's _the_ Yeerk. The one I'll never be able to forgive or forget.

"We _couldn't_ die. It wasn't just a matter of not wanting to, the entire fate of humanity depended on us." I know that I had said that Rachel died in vain because the Blade Ship got away and to some extent I still felt that way but I couldn't bear having sent my cousin to die for nothing and so I was trying to be as objective as I could about it. "With the Pool Ship destroyed and the Blade Ship long gone, how could the Andalites possibly be expected to know that it was over?" Here's where it gets tricky. Very few people know that the Andalites were plotting genocide and we'd all like to keep it that way. Less than forty-eight hours after the Andalites stood down and already we're white-washing it. It would serve no one for the truth to come out and I don't want to needlessly antagonize them. But people deserve to know why what Rachel did mattered so much so I'll stick as close to the truth as I can.

"The Kandrona hadn't been destroyed even if the Pool had been and the Yeerks still on the planet could find a way. And even if they couldn't, were the Andalites just supposed to take our word for that? They didn't have the resources to quarantine every human they came across and the Controllers would just pretend that they weren't infested. Who knows what might have happened?" It was true that up to that point the Yeerks' reaction to seeing an Andalite was to immediately out themselves as a Controller by yelling 'Andalite' and, often, trying to attack but there must be some sensible Yeerks among the invasion.

"We had to survive. Rachel knew this. She knew that the only way one to ensure that was to take out the Yeerk who wanted us dead. It was a risk, certainly. What if one of the surviving crew members decided to kill us no matter how many Rachel could take down? We had to risk it, though, because it was our only shot and it paid off. By taking down the Yeerk who wanted us dead, Rachel saved all of us on the Pool Ship. By saving us on the Pool Ship, Rachel saved the planet. I won't lie and say that that makes it okay that she's dead. I won't even say that her sacrifice was worth it, regardless of if that's true, because that's just the sort of thing that people always say but that no one who knew the person who sacrificed themselves can ever really believe. Rachel is dead and no amount of logic or facts is ever going to make that better. But. But I do know that, without a doubt, Rachel's sacrifice saved the planet and there are worse deaths." Maybe that's the same thing as saying that it was worth it. I don't know. It doesn't feel like it's the same thing and I can't say the former but I'll freely admit the latter.

"Rachel knew she was going to die," I said bluntly. "She knew that it didn't matter how well she fought or how many Yeerks she took with her, she could not possibly hope to take out an entire crew, particularly not a morph-capable one. She knew that there was no escape for her and that she'd rather die than be captured by the Yeerks. She went anyway. She knew what it would cost her, so impossibly close to the end, and _she went anyway_." I wish it had been me. If I hadn't been needed as the universally recognized figurehead and if my death hadn't been such a devastating blow to morale then I would have. It would have killed my parents more than what already happened but I wouldn't have to live with this. I'm not the suicidal type and frankly I don't feel that I have a right to just throw my life away after so many, many people had theirs ripped away without their consent. Still, to have died then…that would have been okay. It would have been necessary and useful and maybe even noble.

"I suppose it might sound better to say that Rachel was perfectly willing to go and that she had no doubts. I don't think that's true but that just gets back to how much more remarkable it is that she did what she did. The truth is that Rachel didn't want to die and she fought tooth and claw to avoid it. People always talk about accepting your fate with dignity but I don't really see the appeal." If we had just accepted what everyone thought our fate was we never would have risen up against the Yeerks. Cassie told me about when she and Rachel had encountered David and he begged her to kill him. Rachel sent Cassie away before she made her decision so I don't know what she did but I think I hate David a little more for that. Yeah, maybe we made the wrong choice by not just killing him but if he wanted to die so badly then why did he have to try to put that on Rachel's conscience? Nothing was stopping him from dying from the moment we let him go. I know that ending your own life isn't easy to do but neither was what he asked of Rachel and she had to live with her choice while he obviously wouldn't have to. He never changed, did he? Never grew up.

" Rachel's sacrifice would have been horrible and wonderful all at once either way but would it have really _been_ a sacrifice if she had been ready to die? I don't think so. I think that had she been ready for death then it still be important and we would all still owe her _everything_ but it's so much more meaningful in that she wanted to live but chose to give that up for the sake of everything she'd been fighting for." Cassie said that David had accepted his fate with dignity but I disagree. If dying was his endgame then he was hardly 'accepting' anything, now was he?

"When I told Rachel what I needed her to do, she didn't blame me." That might be the worst part and why I almost _need_ Tobias and Rachel's family to blame me. I can't have done something so terrible to them and be forgiven. I just _can't_. I wondered, vaguely, if Rachel knew what her forgiveness would do to me and it was calculated to torture me from beyond the grave. I dismissed that thought. Rachel wasn't that kind of a person. Now Marco, Marco was _exactly _that kind of a person but Rachel wasn't exactly the subtle type.

"She knew that by doing what I'd asked, she would get herself killed and even her initial reaction was not to blame me. You know what she told me? She told me not to blame myself. Here I was ordering her to die and she was worried about _me_. She didn't tell anyone else that she was leaving either because she didn't want them to blame themselves for not being able to stop her. That is just so unbelievably selfless of her that I'm humbled by it."

"It's hard to believe that she's gone because Rachel was just so full of life. She was always on the move, always doing something. She was so very passionate and never held back, never hesitated." That wasn't always a good thing but it was Rachel and in the end it was what we needed. "She was more alive than anybody I've ever known and she's gone. She's gone. But, and I do hate to end on a cliché, I can't help but feel like she'll never be _truly_ gone as long as she still has all of us who loved her and as long as the legacy of her sacrifice carries on."

Review Please!


	38. Bored

Bored

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Jake was away for a few days. Visiting some relatives of his, not mine. Tom stayed home so at least Jake didn't have to face that whole "do I kill my brother to save my father" thing again. _

_-Animorphs #37. _

Like many things, having relatives who lived out of state had never been a huge problem before all of this started. Sure, driving out to see them (or flying if they lived _really_ far away) had never been something I'd exactly enjoyed but it really wasn't all that big of a deal. Now, the trip would be just as boring as ever and I couldn't even go without killing the Yeerk in my head which – while I would personally love that – would create far more problems than it solved.

The issue had never been forced until a few months back when I hadn't been able to get out of going to Grandpa G's funeral. Well, I had in the end but I'd ended up with a broken leg because of it. Really, the Yeerk in my head might as well have just not bothered going in the first place.

Currently, my parents and Jake were off in Florida visiting some relatives of ours and I was home alone. Semi-alone. And yes, that did mean Disneyworld. I haven't been for years since we haven't flown down to Florida since I was in grade school but this time my parents hadn't insisted I go. They cited the cost of bringing me wouldn't be worth it if I was determined not to enjoy myself and the fact that it wasn't really any special occasion but personally I think they were a little wary considering what happened the _last_ time they had taken me someplace the Yeerk couldn't go.

They were going to be gone for two weeks and had only taken off two days beforehand so there was quite a bit of time that the Yeerk wouldn't need to worry about excuses or curfews. Unfortunately, this also meant that he found himself decidedly bored while he was home.

{This is ridiculous,} the Yeerk complained. {It's only been two days!}

{I know,} I agreed. People always think about horrible trauma and angst when they think about Yeerk infestation. That's there, too, of course and plenty of it but I don't think it's even possibly to be horribly traumatized all the time. Most people wouldn't think of the boredom that can set in when you're a host but there is a great deal of that, too. It's often made even worse when the Yeerk is bored as well because who knows what the Yeerk will get up to? Some Yeerks merely mentally torture you but I've heard whispers of some particularly depraved Yeerks who pass the time by sexually assaulting their hosts' family and friends.

{Well that, at least, you don't need to worry about,} the Yeerk said disdainfully. {That's such a human thing to do and just _asking_ to get caught. If you don't kill your victim, they might tell. If you do kill them, you need to avoid an investigation and dispose of the body. Not to mention that the best way to get away with it with the humans would be to infest the victim or get Yeerk assistance dealing with the clean-up. And _everybody_ knows the official policy on doing something that could bring negative publicity to the Sharing and hurt our cause or in acting too human. How anybody could possibly think it would be worth it is beyond me.}

I really can't decide if his rationale (and the rationale of most Yeerks) is more comforting or disturbing.

{Your family isn't even interesting so how am I so much _more_ bored without them here?} the Yeerk demanded, sounding both frustrated and appalled. Apparently that topic couldn't hold his interest for longer than two minutes. I do wonder about him sometimes.

{I don't know,} I replied. {Perhaps pretending to be me, while you insist is very tedious, kills time?}

{Maybe,} the Yeerk said absently. {But do you know how unprofessional this looks? People will think I _miss_ them or something! You can be killed for that!}

{You can be killed for getting bored?} I asked rhetorically. {The Yeerk Empire is _hardcore_. Then again, I suppose I've seen Visser Three kill for less.}

{We really should start marking off those particularly decapitation-worthy spots to avoid and teach hosts how to breathe quieter,} the Yeerk said seriously. {It would save us a lot of trouble in the long run.}

{Or perhaps you could just admit that your leader is an unhinged psychopath,} I suggested.

{We could never admit that!} the Yeerk cried, sounding shocked. {Think of what that would do to morale!}

{But you all already know it _anyway_,} I pointed out.

{There is a difference between secretly knowing something and actually admitting it,} the Yeerk helpfully explained. {I would explain it but frankly that's something that I feel you should already know by now and so my coddling you won't do you any favors.}

That wasn't even worth dignifying with a response.

{I can't even complain about them while they're not here or plot how I'm going to one day infest them all because without their presence it just sounds _desperate_,} the Yeerk complained.

{I'm the only one who would know,} I pointed out, realizing a little belatedly that I might be inadvertently encouraging him and really, the last thing that Yeerk (or any Yeerk) needed was _encouragement_. Maybe those Peace Movement Yeerks could use some but I'd never encountered any and I wasn't even entirely sure that they existed. That could just be a convenient excuse to have a Yeerk declared a traitor, after all, and a way to actually root out those who would join such an organization. Very 1984.

{_Please_. As if we need to get our tactics from some obscure human author,} the Yeerk said dismissively.

{George Orwell is hardly _obscure_,} I argued.

{You haven't read him,} the Yeerk pointed out.

{No but I was _supposed_ to last year in English. You just couldn't be bothered,} I retorted.

{Why would I bother reading an obscure human author?} the Yeerk asked innocently. {Besides, your teacher was one of us and I outrank her so _of course_ she passed me.}

The circular reasoning that he could employ sometimes was absolutely astonishing.

{Why thank you,} the Yeerk said, pleased.

{That wasn't a compliment,} I said curtly.

The Yeerk pretended not to hear that (which is in and of itself ridiculous because he _always_ picks up on all of my thoughts so he can't fail to notice the ones that I address to him). {And to get back to your earlier point, no Yeerk is willing to show weakness in front of his host and I am no exception.}

{Unless you're only feeling weakness while you're in the Yeerk Pool, it's very difficult for you to avoid it,} I said pointedly.

{Lies and slander,} the Yeerk sniffed. {And it's _summer_ so there's not even anything on TV!}

{So you can't be bored without being a traitor but you _can_ enjoy human entertainment?} I asked incredulously.

{Well, I wouldn't say 'enjoy',} the Yeerk said delicately. {As long as I maintain a careful species distance and just use it as part of my cover while making sure to be silently deriding it then that's perfectly acceptable.}

{But no one is even around so you can't possibly be using it as a cover. Do you think you're being spied on or something?} I demanded.

{I wouldn't put anything past Visser Three in his growing paranoia,} the Yeerk said grimly. {But as it happens, no I do not. And if you'll notice, I'm _not_ watching anything.}

{Only because you said that there's nothing on!} I exclaimed.

{Well, you're the only one here to know that,} the Yeerk pointed out.

{And just five minutes ago you told me that that wasn't a good enough reason to complain about my family or plot their infestation,} I reminded him.

{No I didn't,} the Yeerk denied.

Unbelievable. {Yes, you really did.}

{Can you _prove_ that I did?} the Yeerk challenged.

{Can you prove that you _didn't_?} I countered.

{Really, Tom, you're being quite absurd. You can't prove a negative. That – and human stupidity – is why there are still people out there who believe in the Loch Ness Monster, fairies, and God,} the Yeerk lectured.

{The first two, sure, but there is _so_ a God!} I cried.

{Whatever helps you get through the day,} the Yeerk said patronizingly. He does this on purpose.

{I can absolutely prove that you said that,} I said firmly.

{Oh?} the Yeerk asked, sounding amused. He already knew, of course. The minute it occurred to me, it occurred to him regardless of if he had thought of it before. It's why if a Yeerk who had a smarter host than them seemed smarter while they still controlled them. {Do tell. And no host is ever smarter than a Yeerk.}

{Not even Visser Three and Alloran?} I asked pointedly.

{Are you trying to say that you think Andalites are smarter than we Yeerks?} the Yeerk asked, highly offended.

{Quite possibly. But the point is that it's _Visser Three_,} I replied.

{Well…yeah,} he conceded. {But we're not inferior to the Andalites. We have nearly all of their same technology, after all.}

{That you blatantly stole from them. It doesn't take much brilliance to do that,} I pointed out.

{And it would be absolutely stupid to, as you humans say, 'reinvent the wheel',} the Yeerk countered.

{Perhaps but that doesn't mean that anyone has to be convinced that you really could,} I told him. {After all, how's that Yeerk morphing cube going? Or that Anti-Morphing Ray?}

{Even the Andalites don't do everything right on their first try. If Visser Three hadn't had those scientists killed, we might have a working AMR by now,} the Yeerk claimed.

A part of me actually did hope that one day they'd get their hands on a morphing cube. That way they could all get bodies of their own and wouldn't need to control us anymore. Of course, a larger part of me feared that they would do it anyway and would just make us morph-capable so they keep their ability to morph and not being trapped.

{Probably,} the Yeerk agreed. {It's what I'd do at any rate. But you never did tell me how you think you can 'prove' that I said that.}

Since he knew what I was going to say and had purposely brought us back to that anyway, he must have some sort of answer. Morbidly curious, I pressed on. {You can play back my memory of the event and see that what I said was true.}

{Um, no, I'm looking through it now and I don't see anything like what you're describing,} the Yeerk lied.

{Then play it back so that I can see for myself,} I instructed.

{Well, I was going to but now it sounds like you're trying to order me about and that would set a really bad precedent,} the Yeerk said smugly. {Sorry, human.}

{You do like some TV shows,} I said, annoyed. {You never miss Early Edition or Law & Order.}

{Of course I like Early Edition,} the Yeerk replied. {After all, think of how much power he has! He can decide who lives and who dies and he has the ability to make a great deal of money, not to mention appearing right all the time and convincing everyone he's brilliant. I just don't understand why he has to waste all his time saving people for no reward and little recognition but it's a human show so you can't expect perfection.}

{I think you might slightly be missing the point of that show,} I told him slowly.

{I don't think I am, actually,} the Yeerk disagreed. {If anything _Gary's_ the one who's missing the point. Chuck's got the right idea. I tell you, if that happened to me then I could definitely figure out how to get a promotion out of it and let me tell you, trying to get a proper promotion out of Visser Three is like trying to tell if there's an Andalite Bandit nearby.}

{And Law & Order?} I pressed.

{It's a valuable insight to the inner workings of the human court system,} the Yeerk insisted. {And you can't say that _that's_ not important based on how many policemen, lawyers, and judges we've taken.}

{I hardly think it's an _accurate_ representation,} I told him.

{Nonsense, of course it is,} the Yeerk said dismissively. {And how about we talk about the other shows that are on? 'Everybody Loves Raymond'? From what I've seen, they actually all hate him.}

{Oh, they do not; they're family. They just argue,} I replied.

{Not all families are as annoyingly close as yours is,} the Yeerk pointed out. {If nothing else, seeing those people at the Sharing and being forced to listen to their tragic tale of woe should have convinced you of that. And what about Touched by an Angel?}

{What _about_ it?} I asked.

{In addition to the fact that even the title sounds dirty-} the Yeerk began.

{Only to someone with a dirty mind,} I interrupted.

{Which you have,} the Yeerk retorted. {There's also the fact that the angels might be even stupider than the humans are. Or at least that one with the dark hair.}

{Which one?} I asked.

{The woman,} he clarified.

{Both women had dark hair,} I pointed out. {Do you mean the white one or the black one?}

The Yeerk heaved a mental sigh. {Obviously I meant the white one or I would have said 'the black one'.}

{Then why didn't you say the white one in the first place?} I inquired.

{Clearly I overestimated you,} the Yeerk sniped. {Honestly, it is both difficult to believe and distressing to think that someone could be that _stupid_ without being a Hork-Bajir. I think an _Andalite_ would have an easier time fitting in than they would!}

{Did you just say something vaguely positive about an Andalite?} I asked, surprised.

{No,} the Yeerk said quickly. {Just something _really_ negative about those angels.}

{It's just a show,} I felt the need to remind him.

{I know that! But still, _somebody_ had to write it,} he shot back. {And 7th Heaven! The Camden family is so annoying wholesome and sanctimonious they almost make me feel glad that I only have to deal with _your_ family.}

{Really?} I asked innocently. {They sounded like they'd fit in wonderfully at The Sharing.} It was kind of pretentious that they felt the need to capitalize the 't' in 'the.'

{It is _not_,} the Yeerk argued. {And what about Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Who can take someone named Buffy seriously?}

{I've heard it's actually a good show but it's not like I'd _know_ since you refuse to watch it,} I said pointedly.

{_Buffy_,} the Yeerk repeated as if that explained everything.

{What about X-Files? I think they have reruns on around now,} I suggested.

{Hm…well, I _do_ like rooting for the aliens,} the Yeerk said thoughtfully. {Though the episodes usually end so depressingly. Still, I suppose it's better than one of them doesn't take over the world so that we can.}

The Yeerk turned the TV on and flipped channels until he found one that was showing X-Files.

Things were quiet for a few minutes as we started to watch the show.

{This is a _boring_ episode!}

Review Please!


	39. Making Excuses

Making Excuses

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_The top of the note was the one from my mother with the flight information. At the bottom of that note was my father's handwriting. _

_**Jake: Went to a Sharing meeting with Tom to explain why he can't help them out this weekend. Be back soon. **_

_**Love, Dad. **_

"_Oh, God," I whispered. My father hadn't thrown away the note. Tom had. He'd been covering his tracks. Tom was taking my father to the Sharing. But not so he could be excused from his obligations. He was going to make our father a Controller. _

_-Animorphs #31._

I honestly don't think I've ever seen Tom so desperate for anything as he was to get out of having to attend his great-grandfather's funeral. He begged, pleaded, complained, sulked, and even tried to use reason on me. Not that he had only hope of that working, of course, given that there is no universe in which staying with his friends will be more important than the funeral of a family member. I did tell him that several times during dinner but he just didn't seem to get it.

I'd say that at least he wasn't mad anymore if he hadn't stormed off the minute dinner was over. Still, he wasn't as mad as he had been when I first told him that we'd be gone until Tuesday so I suppose he had calmed down a little. I just honestly don't understand why this is such a big issue anyway.

Poor Jake was eyeing Tom warily all dinner so I guess he doesn't understand any better than I do. He hasn't even gotten the opportunity to say whether or not this is inconveniencing him with all the complaining Tom's done. It is considerate of him to keep quiet when Tom's causing problems. He practically fled from the house the minute he'd rinsed his dishes off.

"Hey Dad?" Tom asked hesitantly as he appeared in the family room.

"Yes?" I said neutrally. I was just expecting round three of Tom's campaign to stay home and I was not in the mood for it but I didn't want to snap at him in case he had something else he wanted to say. Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that this was a funeral I might be tempted to let Tom stay home. Yes, it would be setting a horrible precedent but he's eighteen now will either be moving out soon anyway or still living here but being a college student and I couldn't treat him like a child forever.

"Look, I've been thinking about earlier and I think I may have…overreacted," Tom said slowly. He looked anxiously at me to see my reaction.

I raised one eyebrow. "Go on."

Tom nodded. "Well, I know that the Sharing doesn't mean anything to you but-"

"That's not true at all!" I objected. "I think that the Sharing is a fine place and I'm proud of your involvement there."

"But you never go there," Tom said pointedly.

I shrugged. "I never go to Africa but I always donate money. The fact of the matter is that I'm simply too busy to be able to make the kind of time commitment to the Sharing that you seem to make."

"You know that you can attend far less often than I do, just any time you can spare," Tom said earnestly.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes; it wouldn't do any good for Tom to think I wasn't taking him seriously. "Is this an explanation for earlier or another recruitment attempt?"

Tom had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry. Like I was saying, I know that the Sharing means less to you than it does to me but I hope you can try to see just how much it means to me."

"I do," I assured him. "But it's your great-grandfather's funeral and there's no getting around that."

The look on his face indicated that he rather doubted that. "I know, I do. I just…and this is so hard to ask…"

"Just tell me," I encouraged.

"Could you maybe come with to me a meeting of the Sharing tonight and help me explain it to them?" Tom asked hopefully.

I frowned. Jean and I had actually planned on going out tonight so it wasn't as if I had any other plans. It just seemed a little…unnecessary. "I could," I agreed. "But why would you need me to?"

"Well, I don't _need_ you to," Tom quickly back-tracked, no doubt feeling like I was questioning his maturity.

I nodded. "Of course, my mistake. Why don't you tell me why you'd like me to come with you?"

"As you know, I've been involved with the Sharing for…it must be three years now," Tom began. "I started going when Rose told me about it and I didn't really know anybody there. I really liked it there and, what's more, I believe in what it's all about. I've spent the past three years working my butt off for the Sharing and it's really paid off. They really trust me there and – more importantly – they rely on me. They don't like down on me because I'm a kid or anything."

That was the key, I thought. No one liked to be considered younger than they considered themselves to be, whether it was toddlers insisting they weren't babies or teenagers declaring that they weren't children. Well…until they got to be somewhere in their mid-to-late twenties and decided they were getting old, that was. How ironic that some people spend so long trying to grow up and then turned right back around and wanted the opposite.

"Well, Tom, you know that adults have other responsibilities, too, and your friends at the Sharing will understand that," I told him. "It's like when you're younger your friends only had to worry about homework or whether their parents could drive them when you wanted them to come over. Now, there's even more homework and jobs and girlfriends and all sorts of other considerations."

"I know that," Tom insisted. "It's just…I don't want to let anybody down. This weekend is really important and I don't want anybody to think that I'm flaking on them."

"So you want to make me the bad guy," I realized.

Tom winced. "I wouldn't put it like that…exactly…"

I laughed. "No, it's perfectly alright. I understand. Where's your meeting?"

"There wasn't actually anything scheduled for tonight but when I called them and explained the situation, they agreed to hold a meeting at Mr. Limoine's antique story since he's a member," Tom explained.

I paused. "Wait, so you explained the situation to them so they called a meeting so you could the situation that you've already explained?"

Tom gave me a weird look. "Of course not. I just said that I needed to talk to them and that I was bringing you."

"I really don't want to inconvenience anyone," I demurred.

"Oh, you're not, don't worry," Tom assured me. "Only a few people are going to be there and Mr. Limoine was going to stay late anyway."

"Alright," I agreed. "Just let me leave a note for Jake first."

Q

The drive to the antique store was a quiet one. I guess that Tom was nervous about having to make his apologies and I didn't want to make this any harder than it had to be.

Eventually we pulled into the strip mall. The lights were on but the shades were half drawn up and there was a closed sign on the door.

"It's okay," Tom assured me as he got out of the car. "It's just to keep out the customers. We're expected."

I nodded and followed him towards the door.

Right before we got in, Tom stopped and snapped his fingers. "Damn, I completely forgot."

"Language, Tom," I said absently.

"Sorry," Tom apologized. "It's just that with everything that's been going on I completely forgot that I was supposed to meet Chris at the library tonight."

"Well, do you think you can still catch him?" I inquired.

Tom shook his head. "No. We were supposed to meet…oh, about an hour ago. Do you think that I could borrow your cell phone and explain what happened to him? I hope he didn't wait there long and I don't want him to think that I just ditched him."

"Of course," I said, immediately reaching into my shirt pocket and pulling out my phone.

Tom gestured at me to go in while he phoned his friend and so I did.

Mr. Limoine was there as well as Mr. Chapman and four other men that I didn't recognize.

"Mr. Berenson, we don't normally see you at these meetings," Chapman greeted me.

"You know how it is," I replied. "Frankly I'm surprised that you can find the time."

"So am I, actually," Chapman admitted. "It really helps that Maureen is a member as well and that Melissa's a good kid and doesn't need much looking after."

I chuckled good-naturedly. "Ah, but even the most well-behaved of kids can still suck up your time."

"You do have two of them and they _are_ boys," Chapman pointed out.

"So how's that lamp I sold you working out?" Limoine asked me.

"Well actually I've been meaning to call about that. Something's wrong with it and it won't work," I informed him.

"You're probably not going to like this but I _have_ to ask," Limoine warned me. "Did you try changing the light bulb?"

"Seventeen times," I answered. "No good." Seeing the looks that everyone was giving me, I quickly explained. "I like to be thorough."

"Apparently," one of the men I didn't recognize muttered.

Tom walked into the room then and nodded at Chapman.

"Not everyone's hear yet but I think that we can begin," Chapman began. "This meeting wasn't necessarily scheduled but I, for one, think that it's a good thing because there's always plenty to discuss. You called us here, Tom, so would you like to go first?"

Tom opened his mouth to speak but stopped when a man wandered in looking around curiously.

"Can I help you?" Limoine asked politely.

"Yeah, I was wondering if the store was open?" the man asked.

My cell phone rung and I automatically reached into my pocket to pull it out when I remembered that Tom still had it.

"Hello?" Tom asked.

"No, it's not open," Limoine said. "That's why it has the closed sign on it."

"Well, I was wondering about that," the man admitted. "But the lights were still on and the door was unlocked and I had watched someone else coming in."

"Hello?" Tom asked again.

"This is a private meeting," Limoine explained.

"When will you be open?" the man inquired.

"_Hello_?" Tom repeated, starting to sound annoyed.

"Normal hours," Limoine replied.

The man nodded. "Thanks. I'll be back then." With that, he turned to leave.

Angrily, Tom hung up the phone and threw it to me.

"Who was it?" I asked him as I pocketed my phone.

"It must have been a prank call," Tom said disgustedly.

"You were about to begin," Chapman prompted him.

"What? Oh, right," Tom said. "A few hours ago, I found out that my great-grandfather died and that this weekend I'm going to need to be going to his funeral. In Nevada. For four days."

"I see," Chapman said slowly.

One of the people I didn't recognize looked horrified. Maybe they'd lost somebody recently as well?

"I understand that this is inconveniencing for you and that my son made a commitment but sometimes things just come up," I spoke up. "I'm sure that you can find somebody else to fill in for him."

"Of course," Chapman said smoothly. "The Sharing is all about promoting family values. Of _course_ we understand. We'll just have to get as much done as we can before he leaves and then find somebody else to help out until comes Tom comes back on Wednesday."

Well, that was easy. I guess this was just one of those things where you (or in this case Tom) builds something up in your head to be much harder or scarier than it actually will be.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw two of the unknown Sharing members inching closer to me. I frowned and was just about to ask what they thought they were doing when suddenly there was a car alarm going off in the parking lot. Instantly they backed off to in favor of checking to see if their car was the one with the alarm blaring.

As I raced outside, praying my baby was safe, I heard another go off and another.

My heart caught in my throat. There was a huge dent in the hood of the car, too big to be made with someone's fist even if they were strong enough to dent it.

"My car!" I wailed, feeling my legs shaking. "Someone hurt my baby!"

And I had thought that this was a good neighborhood, too! That settled that. I was never, ever coming back here. Ever. It just wasn't safe. And it was a good thing that we'd already explained that Tom wasn't going to be in town this weekend because there was nothing in this world that would convince me to go back inside there now.

Review Please!


	40. Self Defense

Self-Defense

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_{Ah, yes,} the Yeerk said and laughed. {It shocks you that I can play your thoughts back for you. Your brain is no different to me than one of your primitive human computers. I open any file I like. I play any software. I use you. I own you. I dominate you. You are nothing anymore. Just an echo. Just a ghost haunting the machine of your own brain!}_

_-Animorph #6. _

I really hate to admit it, but right now I'm terrified. Being terrified is obviously an unpleasant sensation so anyone even remotely sane goes out of their way to avoid it. I know that I avoid it when at all possibly though that's become a lot less likely since we met Elfangor.

And it's bad enough when it's just you and you might be able to hide it from other people. God knows that if my friends knew how terrified I was before we did any of the missions then it would be a lot more work to get them to agree. The leader's not supposed to be terrified, after all, and it sets a bad example.

Right now, though, I can't help it. I _hate_ – if that's a strong enough word – letting a Yeerk see any sort of weakness but now that one's in my head I really can't help it. You can't hide anything from a Yeerk and I'm sure trying would only amuse it.

I've been a Controller for about a day now and the Yeerk has tried and failed to escape twice. That second time was so incompetent that I'm barely sure it even counts and my friends didn't have to step in.

{No one asked for a critique,} the Yeerk snapped.

{Yeah, well, I'm offering one anyway,} I shot back. {Honestly, it's not like we haven't faced the rival colony ant thing before so there's really no excuse.}

I was terrified when I realized that something was wrong and even more so when I discovered that it was a Yeerk. I keep asking myself how I could have let this happen and hoping that nobody who saw me lived to tell the tale. Once Ax miraculously realized what had happened, I relaxed a little but the terror came flooding back once the Yeerk had escaped for the first time.

I don't know why it didn't occur to me that the Yeerk would be able to morph. I mean, it's not like I haven't seen Visser Three morphing before and I know that it must be his host who can morph. Besides, since the Yeerk can do everything else why _not_ morph? I'm glad that it didn't occur to me, though, because there were a few hours when I didn't have to worry about it. It would have been inexcusable of me not to realize if someone else had been taken but as it is I'm in the unenviable position of just waiting it out. Thank God my friends saw what I had not.

I know that the first escape attempt was essentially planned by my friends so that they'd know when the Yeerk escaped but I'm not really sure why they did that. It was going always going to be more than one escape attempt so the first one wouldn't stop any others. They were always going to be on the lookout so why not just always appear to be watching? So far both escape attempts were when he didn't think anyone was watching so that seems the best way to keep attempts down.

I also wished that there would be more than just one person and Tobias guarding me. Tobias was great for keeping track of where I was but the fact remained that he couldn't morph and would be almost useless again a tiger. If the Yeerk just decided to go tiger and fight for his freedom (ironically enough) then I'm not positive that Rachel's elephant or Marco's gorilla could stop him. Combined, yes, but separately? I wasn't happy with the risk. And Cassie had nothing more powerful than a wolf so she'd be absolutely helpless. Unfortunately, I had no way of communicating my worries to them and would just have to hope that it all worked out.

I'm trying not to think too much about that because every second I spend dwelling on it is another second where I might accidentally inspire the Yeerk and end up enabling my own destruction.

{Well you can't avoid it,} the Yeerk said bluntly. {Human, you can't turn off your thoughts and you can't stop me from seeing them almost before you think them.}

{Funny. You'd think after all this time you've known me you'd have learned what my name is,} I replied. {But then, I suppose I overestimated you.}

I felt a wave of annoyance emanate from the Yeerk. It had told me its name but frankly I didn't care.

It was so disconcerting the way he always knew. I hadn't gotten used to it yet and I couldn't imagine anyone ever getting used to that. I did have a few advantages to most newly-infested people. I already knew exactly what was going on so there was no confusion to add to the fear. No Yeerk but the one inside me knew about this so if this Yeerk died I could be free to pretend it never happened. My friends know all about what happened and will do what it takes to save me. Other people, though…do other people live like that, in a perpetual state of terror and pain?

{Your brother does,} the Yeerk assured me. {All his grand attempts to fight me never came down to more than a twitch, you know. And a twitch is really no great victory. No one thinks anything of it.}

{_I_ did,} I pointed out. {That night at the Sharing meeting.}

{So you did,} the Yeerk conceded. {But he'll never know. To him, it's just one more night of meaningless effort where even a victory ultimately means nothing. The fact you pretended not to notice only made the situation worse, you know.}

I had to do that. There was no choice. Letting on that I understood would have only gotten me killed or infested.

{You think that makes a difference?} the Yeerk taunted. {And I've already shown you how pathetic he is today.}

{Not so pathetic,} I argued.

{Oh no? The fact that he volunteered to be voluntary doesn't strike you as pathetic? Well I suppose it is all a matter of perspective,} the Yeerk mused.

{That's not what happened!} I cried.

{ 'Look, I'll never trouble you again. I swear it' doesn't strike you as volunteering to be a voluntary?} the Yeerk asked rhetorically. {You never did strike me as very bright.}

{He just wants to protect me,} I said as calmly as I could.

{And he can't. He knows that, you know, and soon he'll see the proof,} the Yeerk informed me.

{He's completely given up hope for himself, yes,} I admitted. {But he hasn't given up on me. He doesn't even have the energy to defend himself and yet he still cares about _me_. How can I not be…be _awed _and _humbled_ by that?}

One thing that I couldn't help wondering, though I really didn't want to know the answer, was how things had ended up that way, how the Yeerk had managed to break my brother.

{Oh, that was simple,} the Yeerk was only too happy to reply. {It always is, though sometimes it takes longer than others. The fact is that there is no hope. We know who all the human hosts are and the non-humans cannot blend in on your planet. We don't make mistakes at the Yeerk Pool and always give everyone, even that Andalite of the Visser's, sufficient guard. If we can contain _him_ then what chance do those without tail blades or the power to morph going to have? The Andalites only recently showed up in time to get themselves utterly annihilated and you 'Andalite Bandits' have yet to do anything useful.}

{We'll get there,} I vowed.

The Yeerk laughed at me. {Maybe one day you might have, although frankly I rather doubt it. You're just children. What do you know about fighting a war? What could six elite warriors even do against the entirety of our forces on Earth? Now you'll never know. You weren't beaten by us, you know. You would have been but we didn't have to. You were undone by your own carelessness and stupidity.}

I didn't want to admit it but it was true. Or at least it felt like it was true which is really the same thing. I'd really messed up and it was really costing my friends. Just one slip-up and it was all over. Just because the first two attempts hadn't worked didn't mean that he couldn't get lucky later.

The Yeerk decided to press its advantage. {And then, of course, there's what we tell our hosts. The best part is that it's all true. A lie can be painful but the truth even more so. Under the weight of these terrible truths, many a host has shattered.}

I didn't want to know. But in a way, I did. Call it morbid curiosity. I wouldn't ask, though. I was better off not knowing even if my imagination might be worse than what they actually say.

{You don't need to,} the Yeerk said bluntly. {Call it a gift from me to you. You already saw the first part and found that it was quite effective on you, too.}

{The first part?} I repeated blankly. Then I realized.

{That's right,} the Yeerk agreed. {It was when I was explaining that you really don't exist anymore.}

{Of course I exist!} I argued. {We couldn't be having this conversation if I didn't.}

{Ah yes, 'I think therefore I am'.} The Yeerk sounded like he was quoting something but I didn't recognize it. {Say you're still aware. Is that existence? What practical purpose is that sort of existence? You have no secrets and not even the illusion of privacy. You can't move. You can't communicate with anyone but me. And when I'm deemed too important for you then you'll be given to someone lesser. Over and over and over again until you die. The only time you can move you're not even free because you're locked in a cage like an animal. Let's face it. You don't exist. Not _really_. Not if any sort of quality is considered.}

{You sound dangerously close to admitting that that's wrong,} I said tersely, trying not to let myself feel his words. It was difficult. The Yeerks have had _years_ to practice breaking people and the Yeerk knew enough about me to make any slight changes to make his words more effect.

{You want to discuss wrong?} the Yeerk asked rhetorically. {You act like you have the moral high ground, all of you hosts do.}

{Well given that it seems to be one long history of people minding their own business and then you Yeerks enslaving them then that seems about right,} I replied.

{Say we Yeerks weren't here,} the Yeerk began. {People would still be killing each other. They would still go to war over bits of land or differing ideologies or money. Outside of war, people would still be killing each other. And for what? Because they hate one another. Because someone saw too much. Because they felt like it. Because they were angry or wanted something. People would still be kidnapping others. People would still be raping others. You think your people are through enslaving each other? They're not. If it's not children in factories then it's sex slavery. Anyone, _anyone_, can be in the wrong place in the wrong time and then it's over for them. They find themselves trapped and likely forcibly addicted to drugs to better control them to boot. Even if they get out it's never really the same, is it? People would still hate each other for things that have nothing to do with them or aren't any of their business. You tell me how you can come from a species that will be perpetually hell-bent on hating and hurting and destroying itself and claim that you have a moral high ground?}

I was quiet for a moment. He was right about one thing. The human race wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. But did that really give the Yeerks the right to enslave and destroy us? I didn't believe that. I couldn't.

{Maybe we don't have a right to tell your species how to treat their people but the sins of anyone who happens to be human doesn't condemn us all,} I insisted. {Take me for example. I've killed people but I haven't done anything else on your list and it was just to protect my species.}

{Oh how easy it is to fall back on self-righteousness,} the Yeerk scoffed. {You say it was protection? You seem to think that any Yeerk is fair game. What about all of my fellow Yeerks in the Jacuzzi, human? They weren't any danger to you.}

{And neither were you until you crawled into my head so you can't claim they were harmless,} I snapped.

{So you'd hate us for being what we are? How very human of you,} the Yeerk sniped.

{Not for being what you are,} I corrected. {For what you do and for being here when you do it. You can't help that you _can_ control people. You can help that you do.}

{So you'd have no problem with us enslaving the rest of the galaxy as long as we left Earth alone? A little selfish, don't you think?} the Yeerk taunted.

{No, I don't think the desire to save six billion people and all the other life-forms on this planet could ever be considered selfish, especially as I'm not actually selling out anybody else by wishing this,} I argued.

{You think that any of us had a choice in coming here?} the Yeerk demanded.

{You think that the fact you didn't means it's okay to enslave other people?} I countered. {Regardless of the morality of my actions, there are _so_ many people out there who haven't done anything near serious enough to even _begin_ to justify what you do. Take my family, for instance. What have they ever done to deserve enslavement?}

{They just haven't been in the right circumstances,} the Yeerk told me. {If they were then they have the potential to be as bad as anyone.}

{Now you're using something that people haven't even done but _could_ do as justification? Are you even listening to yourself?} I demanded. {If a man murders someone then he should be held accountable, yes. Various other people he happens to know or interact with shouldn't unless they were also involved. The actions of some members of my species, no matter how many or how often it happens, can't doom us all. It doesn't make any sense.}

{What we do is not that different than what you humans do, you know,} the Yeerk told me casually. {When you get right down to it, you humans are our meat. Oink oink. Except that we treat you better than you treat your meat. Do you know how horrified I am whenever I have to eat meat? Whenever I have to consume an animal that was raised to be slaughtered and then devoured? We parasites aren't like that. We don't hurt anyone and we certainly don't need to kill to survive.}

{Those two examples have nothing in common!} I protested.

{Yes they do,} the Yeerk snapped. {I just explained the similarities.}

{First of all, while I may not be a vegetarian myself there _are_ vegetarians out there so it's not like everyone does this. Do you not infest vegetarians because they don't eat meat?} I asked.

{What are we supposed to do, stealthily find out their eating habits before infestation?} the Yeerk demanded.

{That would be ridiculous,} I agreed. {Maybe we could treat our livestock better. PETA's always on about that, you know. But where you find it appalling that we kill these animals and act like you're superior for not killing us, I think it's quite the opposite. At least once the animal is killed then it's over! You take a human or a Hork-Bajir or whatever other species you control and you won't just let them die. You keep them alive and enslaved for years on end. You don't just end their life all at once and let it be over with. You end it slowly for the rest of their lives. What do you think causes more pain? A quick death or decades of the worst slavery imaginable before you get to that point? And you want to know another difference? Sentience. A cow or a pig, whose thoughts – such as they are – and bodies remain their own, isn't self-aware. Doing something to a sentient creature is _always_ worse than doing the same thing to one that is not.}

{We have a right to live,} the Yeerk insisted.

{There's 'living' and there's 'infesting people' and remarkably you seem to be able to do the first without the second,} I retorted.

{That's a quality of life issue,} the Yeerk told me. {Life without a host can barely even be called a life and we _do_ have a right to life.}

{Not at the expense of other people,} I said stonily.

{We're not killing them,} the Yeerk growled.

{I wish you were.}

Abruptly, there was a picture of…I don't even know in my head. It was sort of like a slug but smaller and just…really, really gross. I had the strong desire to step on it but I still couldn't move and it wasn't even there.

{You see?} the Yeerk crowed triumphantly.

{No, I don't,} I said curtly.

{That, human, was a baby Yeerk. You see an innocent baby Yeerk and you want to step on it. You want to murder a baby for looking gross. How is that in any way moral high ground behavior?} the Yeerk challenged.

I would have rolled my eyes if I had been able to. {I didn't know what it was, to begin with. And there's such a thing called 'impulse control.' Wanting to step on something doesn't mean I automatically would. And even if we didn't have the moral high ground, which we do since this is entirely self-defense, then we still wouldn't have an obligation to submit to you.}

{Oh no?} the Yeerk asked curiously.

{No,} I confirmed. {Because there's still the question of self-preservation and doing what's best for you. And it's clearly not in our best interest to let you enslave and destroy us.}

{But then that sword cuts both ways,} the Yeerk argued. {If you can do what you do for the good of your species then you must see that it's better for _my_ species to infest people. If it weren't, we wouldn't do it. Simple as that.}

{So all that means is that in this fight humans have the moral high ground and we're going to fight anyway,} I concluded.

{You know, I really don't think that being infested is so bad,} the Yeerk said idly.

I couldn't believe it. {You realize you've spent quite a bit of timing explaining how much my life is now going to suck and that I don't exist, right?}

{Those aren't mutually exclusive concepts,} the Yeerk sniffed.

{Yes, they are,} I insisted. {Your life can't be so horrible that you just give up and there can't be a Yeerk in your head trying to break you _while_ your life really isn't that bad. It's a contradiction.}

{Look at it from the position that a Yeerk is in if it doesn't infest someone and a human is in if it does,} the Yeerk instructed. {The poor hostless Yeerk has nothing. It can't see, it can't hear, it has no life out of a Jacuzzi or some other pool it's placed in. There's no way out and movement is severely limited. It's like half a life. Say a human is infested. They can still hear, they can still see…You've been blind before, human. You know what that's like and you've only had to put up with it for two hours at a time. Imagine _forever_.}

{You say that _Yeerk_ movement is limited?} I asked rhetorically. {A host can't move at all. And what about the ability to communicate? That's completely gone unless the Yeerk deigns to pass the message along. And then there's the lack of privacy that you don't have to deal with. Seeing and hearing without being able to impact your world…that's horrible.}

{If it were me, I think it would be enough,} the Yeerk claimed.

{Then why, pray tell, are you controlling me and did you control Tom instead of just curling up in our heads and watching and listening passively if you really think that that's good enough and humans should stop complaining?} I challenged.

{Obviously because if I did that then one of you would have warned people about us and other Yeerks wouldn't have gotten my chance. I might even have ended up dead myself,} the Yeerk replied.

{You're just making excuses. If there are actually people willing to let you hijack their entire lives then you could find people willing to have you quietly be in their head seeing and hearing things while they lived their own lives,} I countered.

{I can see your thoughts on that matter, too,} the Yeerk informed me. {You feel that those people are traitors and you would deny us the right to have a body even if the previous owner consented!}

{And what's so wrong with that?} I demanded. {Those people _are_ traitors. Maybe if we weren't at war…I still wouldn't be happy with it but then it might not be my choice, would it? Right now we _are_ at war. Right now these people _are_ willingly aiding your cause and helping to enslave and destroy their own people. If that's not traitorous, what is?}

{You can't seriously think that the voluntary hosts think of it like that,} the Yeerk scoffed. {_Please_. They treat that idea with contempt. It's not an 'us versus them' for those people, they're just willing to help the Yeerk in their head out by allowing them freedom or – dare I say it – _friends_ or even just running away from their problems without killing themselves. A Yeerk can be a great way to break a drug habit, for instance. And, loathe though I am to admit it, I'm sure that some Yeerks feel the same.}

{It doesn't matter if _they_ see it like that or not,} I insisted. {It is what it is. It is a war. Yeerks are trying to infest every human and _most _humans don't want this to happen. That is by definition 'us versus them.' If a human volunteers to have a Yeerk in their head that will then proceed to carry out this war and help enslave and destroy others then they are choosing, for their own selfish reason, to put their own needs or desires above _their entire species_. We're fighting and dying to stop the Yeerks and so many people are in so much pain because of you people and _those _people welcome it. So no, I don't like voluntary Controllers and I never will.}

{You have a lot of anger,} the Yeerk noted.

{I have a lot of reason,} I said shortly.

The Yeerk was quiet for a moment. {You know that your brother loves you,} he said finally.

Instantly, my guard was up. {Of course I do.}

{He shouldn't,} the Yeerk said seriously.

{Is this the part where you tell me that I'm a horrible, worthless person undeserving of love?} I ask sarcastically. {Because if it is then you're going to have to do better than that.}

{You don't think so?} the Yeerk asked innocently. {How long have you known about the Yeerks?}

{About four months now,} I said slowly, uncertain of why he was asking. It wasn't as if he didn't already know.

{And how long have you known that your brother was a Controller?} the Yeerk pressed.

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

{No one can blame you for not doing anything before you knew,} the Yeerk declared. {So what if you didn't notice? Even if you should have, no one else did either. Once you did know, though…what have you done?}

{I can't just free him,} I said quietly. I've had this argument with myself a hundred times since that failed attempt at the Yeerk Pool. {He can't go back to his normal life. The Yeerks know that he's one of them. They would just kill him or retake him and come after my parents and I. If he disappeared we might still be targets. And we don't have anywhere to put him.}

{You can give all the justifications that you want, human, and they may even be true but they don't change the very simple, very terrible fact that you know that your brother is a slave and you know just how much he is suffering and you've done nothing. All he wants is for you to be safe and you won't lift a finger to help him,} the Yeerk whispered with silky menace. {Your brother doesn't know this but one day, assuming he doesn't die first, he will and then he will hate you. And you _will_ deserve it.}

That left me shaken. It hadn't occurred to me that he would but…oh, God, he was right. Tom _would_ hate me and I _would _deserve it. I should do something but I _can't_. It's too much of a risk and that doesn't make it any better. He probably should hate me. If he didn't…that might make it worse. There's nothing so bad as not being blamed for something that you _know_ you should be.

The Yeerk laughed at having scored such a decisive point.

He wasn't ready to stop yet.

I was, at least for now.

I had somehow made it through one day and there were two more ahead of me.

And I was terrified.

Review Please!


	41. Could Be Human

Could Be Human

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_If they're human, why don't we see them out there?" Tom asked. "Four sets of human tracks. No humans in the water. Is it possible…is Visser Three wrong? What if they're not Andalites at all?"_

_I sank beneath the water. The morph was almost complete. But as I went under I heard Chapman laugh cruelly. "Visser Three wrong? Maybe. But I'm not the fool who's going to try and tell him." _

_-Animorphs #4. _

"I'm just saying that it seems a little…convenient," Matt insisted as we walked towards The Sharing. Before I'd been infested he – or rather his Yeerk – had been my guide at the Sharing and we'd gotten along fine so we still spent time together as part of the Yeerks' covers. Having former guides and new Controllers staying in touch was apparently good for the Sharing's image or something. "You really don't find it at all odd?"

"I really don't," the Yeerk replied. "Why would it be odd? The Andalite Dome Ship was destroyed Friday night and then last night a group of survivors decided to attack the Yeerk Pool."

"But why wait?" Matt demanded.

"Three days isn't that long of a wait," the Yeerk pointed out.

It is, though. It so is.

{I'm talking about objectively, not your pathetic countdown to the pseudo-freedom you get when I have to feed,} the Yeerk informed me. {And I'll have you know that sometimes it seems like every time I turn around I have to feed so it's _really_ not that long. I wish we had to do that less.}

Now that was a disturbing though. {And I'm glad that that will never be the case.}

{It might,} the Yeerk claimed. {Genetic engineering and whatnot.}

{Well, sure,} I said agreeably enough. {But won't your people need to start doing their own research and stop stealing everything from the Andalites in order to make that work? Because somehow I doubt that's an avenue that they'd be looking to explore.}

I felt a wave of mild offense coming from him but he said nothing.

"Clearly the Andalites had to find someplace relatively safe to stay, acquire morphs with which to attack and to blend in, and learn more about their environment and our presence here," the Yeerk continued as if he hadn't been distracted by our side conversation. He cocked my head. "Actually…for all of that three days almost doesn't seem like enough time. Very reckless of them to go in before they had all their facts but I suppose that that's why last night was such a failure for them."

{It wasn't a failure,} I said flatly. {They made it out with somebody and they all survived.}

{Yeah, thanks to _you_ and that distraction you made,} the Yeerk scoffed. {I can't take anybody seriously who has to be saved by my host. You were almost eaten by a Taxxon, you know, and then where would I be?}

{I don't know but you'd be somebody else's problem,} I said wistfully.

{Be suicidal on your own time,} the Yeerk ordered.

I felt like rolling my eyes. {This _is_ my own time. And I'm not suicidal.}

Matt seized on that idea. "See, that's just it! They clearly didn't have any real objective. Even if Visser Three hadn't been there, they were just freeing hosts."

"Perhaps that was their objective?" the Yeerk suggested.

"But to what end?" Matt inquired. "Informing Earth of our invasion? You would think that they wouldn't need the testimony of hosts for that. And, in fact, humans telling other humans about us would be far less convincing than one of them in their natural form on the air."

"Don't expect me to understand the way Andalites think," the Yeerk said, wrinkling my nose at the very thought.

"It's not even about Andalites," Matt insisted. "Forget the species, what kind of well-trained warrior would just rush in without a clear plan?"

"It could be rookies," the Yeerk offered. "Surely there would be some on the Dome Ship, especially seeing as how they clearly didn't expect a Blade Ship."

Ever since I had been infested I lived in the hope that one day the Andalites would come to save us. It took a year but finally they did come and get absolutely slaughtered with very few survivors. That left the situation looking a good deal bleaker than it had before the Andalites had come even though the end result was the same. The Andalites had been built up as these mighty warriors and great saviors (completely accidentally on the part of the Yeerks, I'm sure) and yet they'd been absolutely helpless. Maybe if they'd bothered sending more than one ship…

{The Andalites don't care about you,} the Yeerk took great pleasure in informing me. {They don't care about anyone but themselves. If it were up to them they'd be the only species allowed to travel the stars.}

That wasn't true. It couldn't be.

{Which one of us has the years of experience fighting this war?} the Yeerk challenged.

{Like you wouldn't lie to me if that weren't the case,} I said dismissively.

I hadn't even known there were survivors at first but that made sense. If it were clear that there had been survivors then the Yeerks would quickly take action to correct that oversight. Having survivors come and attack the Yeerk Pool itself…it had been amazing. I'd come so close to freedom and I almost hadn't cared that once I got out the Yeerk would be sure to track me down so I couldn't go home and I'd be putting my family in danger. Well, I'd had my reasons for saving that tiger.

The thought that the Andalites really didn't know what they were doing…I couldn't finish the thought. Another group set out to fight the Yeerks only to fail miserable and perhaps even get infested themselves instead of dying so close to the last one was just too much.

"I suppose that's true but they won't be much of a threat," Matt mused. "They wouldn't have gotten away last night if the Visser weren't showing off."

The Yeerk started and looked behind me nervously.

Matt rolled his eyes. "He's not stalking us, you know. He's got better things to do with his time, I'm sure."

"Perhaps the Andalites were just announcing their presence?" the Yeerk suggested.

"Why would they do that?" Matt asked blankly.

The Yeerk shrugged. "To inspire hosts? To demoralize us?"

Matt snorted. "No Andalite would care about a host and I don't think any of us are demoralized after that little display. If anything, I haven't seen the Visser look this excited in…well, _ever_. Even hunting Elfangor had lost its thrill and he seemed almost disappointed when he finally killed him."

"Well that's something, isn't it?" the Yeerk asked rhetorically. "The Visser's entertained by all of this."

"But how long will that last?" Matt wondered slowly. "Either they'll quickly die and prove that they weren't worth his effort or they'll stick around long past the point of the Visser's amusement."

"There's always the chance that they'll be around just long enough to hold the Visser's attention but not long enough to try his patience," the Yeerk offered.

Matt gave the Yeerk a pitying look. "Your optimism is almost adorable."

"It's not optimism to think that the Andalite bandits are, in fact, Andalites," the Yeerk protested.

Matt looked thoughtful. " 'Andalite bandits.' Is that what we're calling them now?"

"I…guess so," the Yeerk replied. "It's what I've heard."

Matt sighed. "How very uninspired."

"Well what would you call them?" the Yeerk wanted to know.

"I don't know," Matt admitted. "But I'm sure if I had to come up with something it would be better than that."

"You're just making excuses," the Yeerk accused.

"Why should I try to come up with something when we've apparently settled on 'Andalite bandits'?" Matt asked logically.

"Well if they're not Andalites then what are they?" the Yeerk demanded, getting back to the original point. "Humans?"

"Specifically, those kids from the construction site," Matt theorized. "Think about it, all of our resources were on finding them. It was only a matter of time until we did and infested or killed them. Then all of a sudden 'Andalites' attack and nobody cares about them anymore. It's a little suspicious."

"Well of course nobody cares about them anymore," the Yeerk said matter-of-factly. "We don't even know if they saw anything and they haven't told anybody so it doesn't matter what they saw. They were only a potential threat to begin with and nobody would have believed their story so we were only hunting them to be thorough. If they tell anybody even now then we'll get them and if they don't then they're no threat. Andalites _are _a threat."

"I still think that if these humans were the 'bandits' then attacking us to take our attention off of them would be the best move," Matt declared. "And the only way that their attack made any sense."

"What's so hard to believe about them just wanting to announce themselves?" the Yeerk asked him. "Sure it might not have done any good but maybe they just didn't want us to think we'd gotten all of them or something."

"Just yesterday when we thought there were no Andalites our security was pretty low. All we had to worry about was the occasional curious easily-infestable human," Matt explained patiently. "As you'd well know. The Andalites could have spied on us with virtually no risk to themselves for as long as it took for them to get a handle on the situation but instead they blow their cover. Now we'll always be watching and wondering if that dog or that bird or that _fly_ is really what it appears or if it's one of them."

"That's true," the Yeerk admitted. "Maybe they just didn't think it through."

"Andalites?" Matt asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"They're not _perfect_," the Yeerk pointed out. "And what's the alternative? That they're humans? You know as well as I do about their sudden xenophobic inclination after we escaped our home world."

"Can't say I really blame them," Matt admitted. "We're probably going to enslave them all one day and imagine if they had helped another species not inclined to worship at their hooves."

"Careful," the Yeerk warned. "That sounds almost treasonous."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Does it? Does it really? I suppose it would also be treasonous to say that for all the humans get wrong their free speech is something I wish our own leaders would look into?"

I hate agreeing with a Yeerk, I really do. Matt has a point, though. It seems that saying anything even neutral about their leaders or their enemies or the species they were enslaving was labeled treasonous. It was absurd. I wondered what it said about a society that deemed those kinds of extensive measures necessary to continue to function.

"Of course," the Yeerk replied promptly. "But that's not the point. The point is that there is no way that any Andalite would ever give an inferior species a piece of their technology ever again, specifically not their precious morphing technology. They may not use it to its full potential but Visser Three does and they don't want another enemy who can morph. Giving it to a human is practically giving it to us."

"Not all Andalites are the same," Matt insisted. "And it only takes one to decide that the risk is worth it. But it's probably too soon to tell. We'll just have to wait and see what these Andalite Bandits are and what they're capable of."

Review Please!


	42. Endangered Species

Endangered Species

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Nicole: For my reply on the differences between Tom's two Yeerks, check the reviews for Chapter 41. I would have put it here but it was a little long.

_The Ellimist said, "We do not impose our will on sentient species. The decision is yours. I have chosen you to decide, because only you, of all free humans, know what is happening. You must decide – to stay on Earth and fight a battle you are certain to lose. Or to leave this planet behind and form part of a new colony of humans." …_

"_You know what bothers me?" I heard Jake tell the Ellimist. "You say the human race will lose to the Yeerks. But I don't believe you can tell the future. See, you don't know how we're going to vote. If you did, you wouldn't bother to be here, would you?" He looked around at each of us. _

_-Animorphs #7. _

I guess I'm sort of getting used to having the weight of the world on my shoulders. It's been a few months since all of this has started and we're getting better at this whole 'saving the world' thing. Not that we've saved the world yet, of course, but one day we might. Or at least we'll hold on until the Andalites get here. Elfangor promised it would be a year and that's still a good seven or eight months away.

Except…the Ellimist said that it wouldn't matter. The Andalites would come but they would lose. We would lose. Earth as a whole would lose and the Yeerks would emerge victorious.

I'm not so naïve that it hasn't occurred to me that that's probably how this is all going to play out and I doubt that the others are either. Still, it's not something that we talk about and since quitting the fight certainly won't help matters it's just been a dark whisper at the back of our minds.

But now it's different. Now this omnipotent (or so he seems) being from Ax's people's mythology has come onto the scene and told us point-blank that we were going to fail. This would have been disheartening no matter who had said it but when the person speaking exists on a higher plane or whatever then it's especially so because you believe that maybe he _can_ tell the future.

Can he? I don't know. He did come to ask us if we'd like to come with him and if he can see the future he wouldn't need to. Or maybe he _can_ see the future, sees that we're going to accept, and is allowing the choice to be ours. Maybe if we were ultimately going to say no then he wouldn't have bothered coming back. I think I like the theory where he can't see the future better, particularly as it means that we might not be doomed after all. He hasn't actually offered up any proof that he can see the future but even if he did show us a vision or something then there's no reason to believe that he couldn't create his own. Ah, but I have become paranoid, haven't I?

If the Ellimist can't see the future but looked at our situation then chances are he'd still think that we were going to lose. I don't blame him. Five humans and an Andalite against the entire Yeerk invasion? The only reason we even remotely have a chance is the fact that the Yeerks move so very slowly. Anything could happen when the Andalites show up (just because they failed once doesn't mean they can't be more ready next time) but _until then_…

I suppose that I should be grateful that he wants to help. Well, sort of help. He won't destroy the Yeerks or even just send them somewhere else to be someone else's problem but he will take a few humans – I'm not sure how many – to another world where they can escape this war and live under his protection. I'm…not sure how I feel about it, really.

At first glance, it sounds terrible. Tobias put it best when he described it as a zoo. Who wants to live in a zoo? And suddenly we'd all be responsible for repopulating the human race? Don't get me wrong, I'm very fond of Cassie but I'm not really comfortable with the thought of us repopulating the human race together. And worst of all is the fact that we'd be leaving with the certainty of having everyone left behind be left to the Yeerks' nonexistent mercy.

The only reason that any of us are considering it at all is because the alternative, if this really is a dichotomy, is even worse. The entire human race would be enslaved forever and there would be no lucky survivors to try and rebuild and then maybe one day to come back and save the rest.

I know what the others think. Tobias has spent too long as a bird to welcome the thought of a zoo and he hated that his being trapped was an added incentive to go along with the Ellimist's plan. Rachel's never one to back down from a fight – even when all reason says to – and she certainly wouldn't choose to leave once Tobias stayed. I don't think any of us would really be comfortable choosing to flee when the one of us who has the most to gain chose otherwise. I don't think Ax really cares if there are free humans living isolated somewhere if the rest of the planet falls and though he won't vote he doesn't trust the Ellimist at all. Marco thinks we're being manipulated and doesn't want to play into anybody's hand.

And then there's Cassie, the dissenter. Somehow she's always the dissenter. She believes the Ellimist without question, probably because it was such a horrifyingly blunt declaration. She likened us to the raccoons she frees from traps who don't even know that she's trying to help and so just make her job harder by fighting her. I guess I can see where she was trying to go with that but I don't think that it's a great comparison. We're not raccoons and we understand that the Ellimist says that he wants to help us. Maybe he even does. We know that it's a bad situation with little chance of success and that he could absolutely save us. Since we _understand_ already the comparison is void. If we choose to do something a little self-destructive and stay then it's not for lack of knowing our options.

I want to go. If I know for sure that we really can't win then I don't know if I can do this. We're already not making much progress and it's driving us further and further towards the brink. We'll probably get ourselves killed anyway and if there's no chance then what is our sacrifice worth? The Ellimist said that he'd bring our families. My brother is my family and Marco's mother is his. It may be the only opportunity either of us have to save our family members. The Ellimist must know that neither of us would ever agree unless they were a part of the deal and there's no reason _not_ to include them. If I had just said yes back there then I could already have my brother back forever and not have to worry about that stupid Yeerk ever again. My parents wouldn't be at risk anymore, either, and it could just be the four of us again the way it used to be. How would Tom react if he knew that I had a chance to save him and I didn't take it? How would my parents? If I went then there'd be no more fear, no more lying, no more pain, no more responsibility…How could I be blamed for not fighting a doomed fight when I was working to keep the human race alive?

I want to stay. The Ellimist just can't know the future. Maybe we win and maybe we don't. If we could ultimately save _all_ of humanity then how could we justify not even trying? And even if we can only hold them off for a little bit, wouldn't that still be something? If we stayed and Earth had two years before it was completely conquered but if we left it would only have one then wouldn't that one year make it sort of worth it? We're the only hope that Earth has until the Andalites come back. Even if the Ellimist does want to save some of us, why does it have to be my friends and I? It would make so much more sense to leave us to our fight and save some other people. The Ellimist claimed it was because we already knew about the Yeerks but what should that matter? He could always tell other people, prove it to them. If he saved other people then it wouldn't even be a choice between trying to save humanity and trying to preserve it because we could have both.

I really wish that this choice hadn't been offered to us at all even though it would mean we'd have no choice but to stay here. It's easier to fight when you know you've got no choice to than when you've turned down the opportunity to be able to leave this mess behind completely.

But there's no point in complaining about things that are over and you can't change, is there? It is what it is and the Ellimist _did_ offer us that choice and the others did ultimately choose no. If they all suddenly changed their mind then would we be whisked away? Leaving the fate of humanity in the hands of children _once_ is irresponsible but it's not like Elfangor had any better options. The Ellimist could have asked anyone so what's his excuse?

This not knowing is going to haunt me, I know. I'm never going to know if the offer is still open or not and I'm always going to ask myself if we did the right thing by saying no. After every long, bloody night or crushing defeat I'll ask myself. And if the offer _is_ open, what would it take for us to crack and take it? We could change our mind and say yes at any time but once we've chosen there's really no going back is there? We'd have to be sure and how _can_ you ever be sure of something like that?

The others will have to worry about that, too, I know and it will be worse for Cassie since she only said no because we all did. If it had been up to her we'd have set up our very own free human colony on a distant world somewhere. She'd never blame us if we did lose and humanity – real humanity – went extinct, though. She's not the type.

One thing worries me about the possibility of the Ellimist offering again. And he might because who really expects such life-changing decisions to be made on the spur of the moment when we're all about to die? If we didn't give the answer he wanted, he'll be twice as likely to come back. Saying no will be harder, I'm sure, and if we all have time to actually think it through and talk about it then there won't be any more avoiding it.

I'm going to have to pick a side.

I'd _like_ to be able to just say 'thanks but no thanks' and be done with it but I don't know if I can. This war's gotten so horrible already and we really haven't accomplished anything. Rachel's falling apart and Cassie wants to go and Tobias has already lost damn near everything. I want to say that I would stay and fight the good fight but I don't even know if that would do any good. And the _temptation_…

Well, with any luck we won't be asked again and we can all just forget about that unfortunate incident…or at least pretend to forget. And if not then I'm sure I'll think of something. That is my job, after all.

Review Please!


	43. Vengeance

Vengeance

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_I'd been looking at nothing but tactics; I'd overlooked emotion. The emotion of a vengeful Yeerk. He despised Visser One for being a failure, for being a brute, for refusing to promote him. "As long as…" Tom had started to say. Yes, Visser One was not the only person Tom's Yeerk hated. Someone else was to blame for forcing this choice on an ambitious Yeerk. Me. My friends. We were responsible for forcing this choice on Tom's Yeerk. In frustrating Visser One we had doomed Tom's Yeerk. _

_-Animorphs #53. _

It could have happened to anyone, it really could have.

The very first thing we were taught is that we were not, under any circumstances, to sympathize with our hosts. Yes, they may be in pain and they may even prefer death to our presence but it didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

Anyone who has ever taken an involuntary host can tell you why. If you're controlling a host that feels that strongly about it and you allow yourself to feel anything softer than contempt for them then that puts you in a dangerous position. If you allow yourself to see them as a person like you instead of a body to be used with the downside of having a mind still attached then you might come to see what you're doing as wrong. You might not be able to stand what you're doing to them and try to put yourself in their place and see how you'd feel about being a host and that _cannot_ be allowed.

Some Yeerks like to tell themselves that what we do to hosts isn't that bad but given the choice between being a host with sight and hearing all the time or being a Yeerk who controls those senses for most of the time, anyone honest would have to choose being a Yeerk. It's pathetic that some people can't be honest with themselves but whatever it takes to keep them from being a sympathizer.

The naïve among us, usually those who have never taken a long-term host or had to deal with an involuntary one, wonder what exactly is it about feeling sorry for a host that makes it worse than working with the Andalites. Due to the fact that the Andalites hate us and want to kill us all, there aren't many among us who would stoop to working with them but sympathizing is a risk we all have to face. If you sympathize with a host and consequently believe that what you are doing is wrong then how can you justify controlling a host against its will? Even if you only take a voluntary host how can you justify supporting and furthering an invasion that takes involuntary hosts? It's the sort of thing that leads those not choking on their own hypocrisy to the 'Peace Movement.'

The danger of the 'Peace Movement' is clear. We live in a society that is based on finding bodies and turning them into hosts. It is so much easier to just take one instead of convincing its mind that infestation is preferable to non-infestation. There are many who would _never_ allow themselves to be talked into it without some kind of dire threat which really does seem to defeat the purpose of even asking. Yes, controlling a willing body makes life easier but there are more important things.

The time commitment in taking hosts aside, there will never be as many hosts willing to accept us as there will be hosts that have to be forced into it. We are at war with the Andalites and even if we _were_ willing to pursue this 'mission of peace' then that still wouldn't be enough for them. They would still try to send us back to the pools that we crawled our way out of so many years ago. Forcibly infesting others is a matter of self-preservation.

If I were forced to give an honest opinion, then I would be forced to acknowledge that being infested is the wrong choice for any host, even the fools that willingly let us in. I would certainly never agree to it. Just the same, I don't believe it matters in the slightest. I'm not willing to go back to being just a slug, blind, deaf, and all but immobile. If a host doesn't like it then that's hardly my problem.

No, my problem is that our culture of paying no mind to hosts leads to a certain disconnect from their lives. For species that are being openly invaded or have already been completely conquered, those who aren't acting as spies never need to know anything about who their hosts were before. For stealthy invasions like Earth, however, we need to pretend to be the body we're inhabiting.

No one really pays any more mind to the host's family or friends than is strictly necessary for keeping their cover or for adding another body to our ranks either because they genuinely don't care about these people that matter to your host or because you're the type to be at risk for sympathizing and so can't afford to get too close. I fall into the former category and normally that would be a blessing but it didn't save me when the truth came out about Jake.

Jake. My host's little brother. He was just a child when I met him and not even a very mentally sound one. He was eating everything in sight in the most obnoxious manner, seemed to have no idea what we were talking about a great deal of the time, and played with every sound he made. Then he abruptly returned to normal and pretended not to know what happened…or did he? While I find it difficult to believe that an Andalite warrior would behave in such a juvenile fashion, he certainly wasn't acting like himself.

He was in middle school. His grades were forever hovering in the C-range and he couldn't make the basketball team. How was I supposed to have seen him as a threat? He didn't like the Sharing but then not everyone did and he never made a big deal about it. He wasn't around a lot, I suppose, but then neither was I and I _saw_ him during times when I know the bandits attacked. How could it be him? How could it have possibly been him?

And yet, somehow, it was. I didn't really believe it until I saw him morph into a bird and fly away. He might have been killed right then and there and saved me from facing the Visser's wrath for my failure if I hadn't failed once more and allowed my own host to take control for a few precious seconds and throw off the aim of the Yeerk in his mother who had been poised to disintegrate him on the spot.

Is it my fault? Should I have known? I did live with him for three years but I wasn't the first. My predecessor never noticed anything either and Jake must have found out about our invasion during his time. Three years looks awfully damning, I know, but the fact of the matter is that it had been _months_ since the 'Andalite Bandits' appeared on the scene by the time that I had even heard of Jake. He knew what I was and so he had the sense not to treat me like I was the enemy or to go around covered in blood (except for that one time. Should I have been more suspicious?) or openly discussing the invasion. If he was sometimes tired or not around, was that somehow supposed to indicate that he knew? Was the fact he never joined the Sharing? Would any of my fellow Yeerks have noticed anything?

I find myself doubting this but it's not the first time that I've been let down by the Yeerk hierarchy. I wasn't a very high-ranking Yeerk when I first came to this planet but three years of hard work and a talent for surviving in an environment with an absurdly high turnover rate means that I've rather made myself indispensible. While the Visser has become increasingly lost in his paranoia and obsession, I've been the one keeping our actual invasion – not just attempting to deal with the threat to it – running smoothly. I've basically been carrying the Visser all this time but have I gotten the promotion I deserve from it? No. I sometimes doubt that the Visser's even noticed. I wouldn't have minded doing all of that and more if only it would have been _worth something_.

My host finds my 'job dissatisfaction', as he calls it, incredibly amusing but I reached the end of my rope a long time ago. If running Visser One's invasion for him wasn't enough to get a promotion to Sub-Visser, was what? _Taylor_ was a Sub-Visser despite being notoriously unstable and good for nothing but torture. She was an expert in her chosen field, of course, but she hardly seemed Sub-Visser material. Was that it? Was I just not insane enough? Did he only promote people that he didn't see as a threat? It was a good strategy for keeping his position if not for actually doing his job.

And now that Jake's been revealed, I fear that I will _never_ be promoted. More than fear, actually; I know it. I know that frankly I'm lucky to be alive and if I were just the tiniest bit _less_ essential that I wouldn't be. As it is, I almost starved. As it is, I went through two weeks of hell because of that little human and the Visser's mindless rage and I won't forget it.

I didn't use to hate Jake. I didn't use to feel anything at all towards him except for a minor confused feeling when he was being odd again. So yes, there were times he was slightly off but nothing that would immediately make me think 'Andalite Bandit' or that would have it occur to me even on reflection. He was less bothersome than his parents if only because he didn't have any power over me like they did.

Now, though…he walked away unscathed while I was left to suffer for his defiance. We may have his parents but even that didn't seem to rattle him when I confronted him about it at that center for the blind. Does he even care? That cold-blooded little bastard. I had never actually done anything to him before the time I punched him in the face but he would have had me killed for his actions and it would have meant nothing to him. Of course I hate him now. Anyone would. Even my _host_ resents him.

But despite all of that, I still have difficulty taking Jake seriously even now (I remember him in _diapers_!). I know that I'm not the only one who failed to stop him all these years and so to lay all the blame on me…I've been made the scapegoat and I'm not happy about it, to put it mildly.

I'm not happy about a lot of things, actually. If my host's child brother is in charge of the 'Andalite Bandits' as it looks like he is then even if there is at least one Andalite, he cannot possibly be any sort of warrior (or at least not when he arrived). There were only a handful of them for the longest time though they were making more when we caught them and took the morphing cube. Somehow Visser One failed to find them for _three years_ and he allowed them to stop him from even taking control of the city of Santa Barbara, let alone the rest of the planet. It's the slowest invasion imaginable and at this rate I don't see us conquering all of America within my lifetime.

And after all that I had done, it was only recovering the morphing cube that saved me. If I hadn't managed to expose myself and my host to the cube before Visser One heard that I had it then I wonder if I would have been given this power. And my reward? Not a promotion, not really. I was given the unenviable position of being the security chief under Visser One. A part of me thinks that he's mocking me for what happened with Jake but he doesn't quite grasp the concept of subtly. Either way, mine was a position that we've long-since joked about sending people to get rid of them.

No one lasts long as Visser One's security chief and I won't be any exception. Unless. The Andalites are coming and they very well might win and kill us all. Unless. There's a chance that our fleet will beat back the Andalites once more and allow Visser One to claim credit for the victory on Earth he's done everything to sabotage. Unless. Jake and his friends might actually see their efforts pay off and watch us crumble do to our own incompetence – for there is no way they've come this far on their own skills. Unless.

Visser One has long since relied on me and, though his confidence wavered for awhile, now he has more faith in me than ever. I don't want to die because the Visser can't control himself. I don't want the Andalites to come in at the last second and destroy everything we've worked for. I don't want Visser One to have this planet fall into his metaphorical lap. I don't want to see human children think that they've stopped us.

There really isn't much I can do to stop it. Not all of those possibilities will come to pass but it's inevitable that at least one will and I can't stomach _any_ of them. Most people would say that there isn't anything that I could do to stop it. Some might suggest killing myself before it does. They're all thinking too small.

I _can_ stop it and I can have my revenge as well. I'll have to be long-gone by the time the Andalites arrive but to be honest our traditional enemy is feeling a lot less hateful than usual and it's certainly less personal. I'll approach Jake with an offer or alliance and he's just stupid enough to believe me. I'll use him to further the Visser's faith in me and to lower his guard and then kill them when they least expect me.

The Visser's faith and his inability to be in two places at once as well as the soon-to-be Taxxon revolt (what did he _think_ would happen when he decreed that no Taxxon be given the ability to morph, however disastrous losing the Taxxons would be for us) should give me the Blade Ship. The Visser in the Pool Ship will be helpless. I only wish that I was more familiar with Andalite facial expressions so as to better treasure his when he realizes what I've done.

I'll have people that I can trust and maybe even the morphing cube if I can play my cards right. I'll have a new chance for a new empire with all of the promise that we've lost and none of the baggage that we've accumulated. It will be my rules and my victory.

It's not what I set out to get, I'll freely admit, but it's a hell of a consolation prize.

Review Please!


	44. When Animals Attack

When Animals Attack

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Jake smiled. "Got home late last night. My dad turned on the late news. They're talking about 'escaped' wild animals busting up a TV studio, bunch of other places. A private jet doing a swan dive into a high rise. That all sounded like maybe some people I knew were involved."_

"_It was a big day." _

"_I figured I'd better call Cassie. She told me some of it. I talked to Marco, and he told me some more. They both said you'd probably want to tell me some stuff yourself." _

_-Animorphs #37_.

I had actually had fun on the vacation which had rather surprised me. I know that it's practically impossible _not_ to have fun at Disney World but I was gone for two weeks and practically useless in case of an emergency since it would take forever to get back to California and my parents would freak.

As a general rule we don't like being away from home even for one day because we never know when the Yeerks might be planning something we need to react to immediately and there aren't enough of us that we can afford to do a mission with five. I mean, yeah, Cassie did pull off a miracle a few months back when we were all sick by invading the Yeerk Pool, rescuing Aftran, and returning to perform brain surgery on Ax but that's not the kind of thing you can count on.

Still, I didn't really have a choice about going and it _was_ Disney World so I headed off to Florida with my parents. Tom, thank God, was staying at home. I guess since it wasn't a funeral my dad didn't think it was as important for him to go and maybe he was thinking about the disaster that was the last time Tom was forced to go somewhere. Admittedly he didn't know just how badly that had almost ended but even what he knew was pretty bad. Tom had been sulking for days and then the pair of them had almost drowned and Tom had ended up with a broken leg.

I didn't leave any instructions for when I was gone. I probably should have but I didn't want them to take that as an invitation to do something. Yes, if it was an emergency then naturally they needed to react to it but…I don't know. Maybe it's just arrogance thinking that it would be better for them to do nothing until I returned. I probably would have left Marco in charge anyway and he wouldn't have been very likely to act unless it was an emergency so it all amounted to the same thing.

When I returned home to California – tan and tired and a little bit sunburned – Tom wasn't home. He had left a note, though, since he knew that we'd be coming home tonight saying that he was staying late at the Sharing.

"Well that's a surprise," my mom said dryly. "I hope he'll be back before I go to bed. I've missed him."

"If we're staying up then we might as well check the news," my dad decided.

I went to my room to unpack. Well, at least I would start to unpack. I _was_ pretty tired so I'd probably leave most of it until the morning but I could at least throw my dirty clothes in the hamper (though I wouldn't take that down until later) and get out my toothbrush and stuff.

I was just about to start getting ready for bed when I heard my mom calling for me.

"Yeah?" I asked as I came downstairs.

"Come watch this," my mom instructed, patting the empty sofa cushion next to her.

I did as she asked and focused my attention on the television.

An Asian man was standing in front of a high-rise and the words 'Stolen Military Craft Crashed Into Beane Tower' were at the bottom of the screen.

"Authorities have not yet determined whether the unscheduled take-off and crash into the newly-built Beane Tower was a deliberate act of terrorism or a criminal joyride gotten out of hand. Back to you, Diane."

The screen switched to a pretty blonde woman sitting behind a desk. "Thank you, John. The police have yet to identify where the exotic animals that went on a rampage in the downtown area today have come from. All local zoos and wildlife preserves in the area have denied missing any animals. Witness reports have placed several polar bears, a gorilla, a grizzly bear, a wolf, a hawk, and – according to some – a strange blue deer as attacking several local businesses. Among those hit were our very own WKVT studio, Style-a-riffic, Fred's Fitness Center…"

I watched the report in silence. Of course. Who else? I would have known even if they hadn't mentioned a 'strange blue deer.' It was lucky that the witnesses hadn't gotten a better view and noticed how distinctly non-human Ax was. Strange, though, that that had made it on the air at all considering that the WKVT was largely Yeerk-run. As, of course, were the other places hit.

I guess now I knew why Tom wasn't home.

"I can't believe it," my dad said, shaking his head. "I simply can't believe it."

"Believe it, Steve," my mom said, patting him on the shoulder. "It really happened."

"Why do these things always happen whenever I'm not around?" my dad complained.

"Would you really want to be out shopping somewhere and have a zoo show up and make a mess of things?" my mom asked skeptically.

"Well…I might not appreciate it so much in the moment," my dad admitted. "But afterwards, assuming that I was alright? Absolutely! It would have made a great story to tell the guys. In fact, I might tell them anyway."

"But won't they know that you didn't get back until tonight, Dad?" I asked him.

My dad shook his head in mock-disappointment. "Why do you always have to ruin things, Jake?"

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I was just trying to help you get your story straight."

"They wouldn't ask," my dad said confidently. "After all, who would lie about a thing like that?"

"Who indeed?" my mom muttered.

"Are you two seriously telling me that you wouldn't want to have been there?" my dad asked incredulously.

"Yes, dear, I am seriously telling you that I would not want to have been there," my mom assured him.

"If _I_ had been there then it wouldn't have happened," I said, somewhat forgetting myself.

My mom shot me an inquisitive look. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just that nothing very interesting happens when I'm around," I quickly covered. I had to find out what was going on. I just couldn't wait for tomorrow.

"Don't feel bad," my dad said encouragingly. "I'm sure we'll be in town the next time a bunch of wild animals – some of which who seem to be genetically engineered – escape from wherever they were being secretly held and tear up the town." He laughed. "Get it? Tear up the town!"

"You're not as funny as you think you are," my mom said, rolling her eyes.

"I know," my dad said modestly. "I'm even more so."

I smiled at them. "I wonder if Tom was there."

"Oh, Tom!" my mom exclaimed. "We'll have to ask him. I hope he wasn't."

"Well, _I_ hope he was," my dad countered.

"I'm going to go take a shower," I informed them.

"At night?" my mom asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I feel kind of dirty with all the time spent at the airport," I told her. "I just want to get cleaned off."

I might have to get into the water just in case my parents stopped by to check on me (which they rarely did by why risk being caught in a stupid lie?) but what I really wanted to do was have the water on so it would be impossible to overhear me as I made my phone calls. There was still the risk of one of my parents picking up the phone to make a call and overhearing me but that wasn't very likely at this hour and I knew that they wouldn't be eavesdropping on me. Tom might but Tom wasn't home and I could sort of see the driveway through the bathroom window so I'd be able to tell when he came back.

I dialed Cassie first. It was late and so I might not be able to reach her but something told me that she'd be a better choice than Marco who would probably waste time complaining or Rachel whose fault this probably was. Is it terrible that I automatically assume that this was Rachel's doing? But then, it was the Animorphs attacking various stores in broad daylight for seemingly no reason and ending up on the news. Who else _but_ Rachel?

Cassie answered on the first ring.

"Jake?"

"Did you finally get Caller ID or something?" I asked, surprised.

"No," Cassie said, sounding relieved to hear from me. "I was just waiting for you to call. I know that those animal attacks made the news and I figured you'd be worried."

"Well I am most definitely worried. Can you tell me anything more than the two-minute story?" I asked her.

"I can tell you a little," Cassie said cautiously. It would seem her parents were either out or asleep them. Even though we had really reduced the risk of being overheard, we still didn't want to actually spell anything out so Cassie would probably need a moment to think. "I heard that a man actually died in the attack. Malcolm Reinap. He was at the TV studio when those animals came in and he just had a heart attack right there. Rachel's really upset."

"I can imagine. That sounds horrible," I said. So that confirmed that Rachel was behind this. She had to be blaming herself. I didn't want her to do that necessarily because that's the kind of thing that's out of her control but on the other hand I was glad that it had affected her. I worry that one day that kind of thing won't.

"Oh, we all went to the pool today," Cassie continued. "We really missed you there. I had a bit of a scare when I got separated from the others and couldn't find my way out but they came back for me."

I inhaled sharply. "You mean you-"

"I'm fine, really," Cassie interrupted. "I just thought you might want to know. Rachel was there, though, and she saved the day, so to speak."

"Well, that's something," I allowed. But still, Cassie trapped at the Yeerk Pool and in need of rescuing? What in the world had they gotten up to while I was gone? "We couldn't have the day remain un-saved now could we?"

"No, we couldn't," Cassie agreed. "But seriously, talk to Rachel tomorrow. You should probably hear the rest from her."

"I will," I promised. "Is this the part where you ask me to never ever go away again?"

Cassie laughed. "I would if I thought I had to. Not to worry, I know you'll do the right thing."

"And 'the right thing' is depriving me of two weeks of Disney World, I take it?" I asked wryly.

"Hey, Disney _Land_ is much closer," Cassie pointed out. "And we've got the Gardens."

After hanging up with Cassie (we hadn't spoken for _too_ much longer) I dialed Marco.

Unlike with Cassie, he wasn't the one to pick up.

"Hello?" a female voice asked. Nora.

"Hello, Ms. Robinette," I greeted her. "It's Jake."

"Jake?" she repeated, surprised. "It's rather late, isn't it?"

"It is and I'm sorry," I told her. "But I just got back and I was really hoping that if Marco was still up that I could talk to him."

"Well…" she sounded like she was considering it. "You have been gone for awhile, I guess. Just keep it short. Marco needs his sleep."

"Absolutely," I promised her. I waited patiently for Marco to take the phone. We'd have to be even more careful since I knew that Nora was up even if I didn't think (from the little I knew of her outside of my math teacher) she was the kind to eavesdrop.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Marco greeted me. "It couldn't possibly be Jake returned to us from the land of the oranges, could it?"

"I'll let you work that one out for yourself," I replied. "I'm still not convinced you don't have Synesthesia."

"Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better about your own limited vision," Marco sniffed. "So anyway, what's up?"

"Did you see the news report?" I asked.

"I did indeed," Marco agreed. "Personally, I was rooting for the gorilla."

"Did you hear anything about it that wasn't on the news?" I inquired.

"Not really, no," Marco told me.

I was about to protest when he continued.

"I will tell you about a new development I think you missed with our favorite comic book villain, though."

Marco had decided some time ago that Visser Three reminds him of a comic book villain. I don't quite see it because even if they're equally melodramatic Visser Three is a lot less ineffectual and infinitely more terrifying but whatever helps him face that monster.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He faced off against a rival who looked almost exactly like him," Marco revealed. "Except he was seriously being considered to join the evil league and so they didn't really get along. The heroes knew that the league could get rid of the villain for them and so they stepped up their efforts in a valiant effort to make the clone think the villain was incompetent…not that he needed much encouragement."

So basically Visser Three's superior who was in a host that looked like an Andalite (or a morph of his, I guess) and who may or may not have been about to join the Council of Thirteen came and the others did all of this to make the Council think that Visser Three was incompetent. Because they were both high-ranking Yeerks they hated and disrespected each other.

"Sounds cool," I replied. "How did it turn out?"

"Are you sure you want the spoilers, man?" Marco asked.

"I probably won't have time to read it anytime soon," I answered.

"Well, the clone was _accidentally_ killed by the heroes and the villain just watched them leave because he was too busy mocking the clone for not managing to stop the heroes," Marco explained. "It was pretty awesome. I have to admit that the villain did get some good lines in but I will deny saying that if you ever bring it up."

"I won't," I assured him."We can't let your burning hatred for the villain be questioned in any way, after all."

"Too true," Marco agreed. "So that's my summary but then you know I'm no good at recaps. You should ask Rachel. She really got into that adventure."

"I'm starting to sense a pattern here," I murmured.

"What's that?" Marco asked.

"Never mind. So I heard that Cassie got lost at the pool today and Rachel found her?"

"Oh, yeah. She definitely came through at the end," Marco confirmed. "And…that's Nora pointing at her watch."

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing," he agreed before hanging up.

I still didn't have all the facts but I knew more now than I did before. I almost wish I hadn't asked because this was far more serious than I had first thought.

Still, they all seemed to think that Rachel, who apparently hadn't done a bad job as the person who was probably in charge, should be the one to tell me the rest of it so I'd just need to wait until tomorrow to ask.

And probably never, ever go away ever again.

Well, Disney World, it was fun while it lasted.

Review Please!


	45. Not Again

Not Again

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_It was late when we got home. We were tired. Worn and brittle from a day harsh with fighting. We each told our separate lies to our various parents , and we were each grounded. I don't think anyone minded. _

_-Animorphs #27._

I've been a teenager. I get it. You get older and start questioning everything around you. You feel invincible and yearn to get around the 'oppressive' rules set by adults who think that they know better. They probably do but you'll never believe it at that age. Rebellion at that age is practically their birthright and all you as a parent can do is hope that your child will have a more minor version.

As a parent, I've been extraordinarily lucky. Tom never got in trouble (that cheating scare from a few years ago notwithstanding) and he seems to be completely over that teenage rebellion. Jake's only fifteen so I know there's no way that's over with but for the most part he doesn't cause trouble either.

It's not like Jake's never come home late before. It's not like Tom never came home late. I certainly had my nights when I hoped that my parents weren't sitting in the family room watching the clock and planning out all the ways they were going to make me regret not calling.

I _get_ it. I may think that the ten o'clock curfew can only help keep kids safe and out of trouble but I don't blame Jake for not keeping it every night. Now, if he had gotten in trouble with the police then maybe we'd have to have a talk but I can forgive the occasional slip-up. If he can't screw up now when he's young then when can he? When he's in college? When he's out in the real world? No, it's much better to get that out of the way now.

Jean doesn't really agree with me on that. I'm sure she wasn't a perfectly obedient teenager (though she'll never admit to it) but she says that it doesn't matter because being a parent changes things. I know that, too, of course but maybe I'm just naturally less inclined to worry. I don't think that that makes me a _bad_ parent by any means, just a less nervous one.

Normally.

It's nearly 1:30 in the morning and while Tom's upstairs in bed blissfully unaware that anything is wrong, Jake is missing. I can't be sure at precisely what time I stopped trying to calm my wife down and started worrying about Jake as well but I do know that it was quite some time ago.

Not again. The last time things were this serious was when Jake rolled into the house just before midnight a year or so ago when we had that freak tornado. And even then, even when there was a _tornado_ he still managed to make it home more than an hour and a half before now. He never did explain what had happened or where he was but I've never seen him that exhausted. Jean and I were really hard on him and hoped to put the fear of God into him so he wouldn't do something like that again, especially without calling. For over a year that seemed to work.

Until now. Until tonight.

"Should we wake Tom up?" Jean asked.

She was pacing up until a minute ago before she threw herself onto the sofa beside me. Her legs won't stop jittering like she's had too much caffeine but I know that even without having had any it will be a long time before she gets any sleep. I don't know whether I should envy her energy or not. Even with all of my worry I can still barely keep my eyes open. No matter what time I actually need to be awake I'm always awake far too early and often end up falling asleep in front of the TV. I don't remember the last time I was up this late. Probably my bachelor party, actually, and sometime in college before that.

"No," I replied after a moment, shaking my head. "Waking Tom up won't get Jake back home any faster and there's no reason that he has to go through this with us. With any luck, by the time he wakes up tomorrow Jake will have gotten home and this will all be over."

"With any luck," Jean echoes. She turned to me suddenly, her eyes wide. "Jake wouldn't do this, Steve, you know that he wouldn't."

"And yet he has," I pointed out.

"Has he, though? Has he really?" Jean asked rhetorically. "This isn't just losing track of time or being embarrassed to call us. He must have known how worried we were after the last time and he wouldn't put us through that again. Why hasn't he called?"

"I don't know, Jean. We'll have to ask him that when he gets back," I said, keeping my voice as light as possible. I may not be much calmer than Jean is but if I give in to panic then the two of us will just sit here completely losing our heads and imagining all sorts of gruesome scenarios which will only make the time pass slower.

"_If_ he gets back," my wife said, apparently determined to envision those scenarios.

"He'll be back," I said firmly.

"How do you _know_?" Jean demanded. "How do you know that he didn't get kidnapped or stabbed and left bleeding by the side of the road? How do you know he didn't get shot?" Her hand shot out and grabbed my own. "Oh, God. What if they never find the body?"

"Be reasonable," I implored her. "What are the odds of that happening?"

"I don't care about the odds!" Jean snapped. "If the odds are a million to one that my son will get struck by lightning then if he _does_ get struck by lightning."

"It's not raining."

Jean glared at me. "You're not helping!"

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

I didn't know how _to_ help and that was the problem. I hate feeling useless but there really wasn't anything else that I could think of to do. Was I supposed to drive around the area looking for him? Maybe there was something to this whole cell phone thing after all. If we didn't have to wait for him to call or know exactly where he was and could just call him ourselves no matter where he was or when we called then we wouldn't be in this situation. Of course, there was no way that we were going to spend all that money on a cell phone after he pulled this little stunt.

"We should be _doing_ something," I said frustratedly, slamming my fist down on the coffee table.

Jean jumped. "I know, I know. I want to do something, too. I just…" She got up and started pacing again. "What can we do?"

"I don't know. Anything's better than doing nothing," I said.

"You said he was probably fine," Jean said accusingly.

"He is!" I insisted. "But that doesn't mean that I like just sitting here waiting for him to come home."

I heard the unmistakable sound of the key being turned in the keyhole and exchanged a relieved glance with my wife before the pair of us bolted for the door. We barely had time to compose ourselves before the door swung open and Jake stepped inside.

My first thought was _thank God nothing happened to my son_. My second thought was _I am going to kill him_. After that, I was able to focus enough to take in his appearance. It was cold out, too cold for the bike shorts and tight t-shirt which he was wearing. He had no shoes and he looked apprehensively between Jean and I.

"Hello," he began shakily.

"Hello, Jake," Jean said brightly. It was never a good sign when she used that tone. It _sounded_ perfectly pleasant, sure, but it always heralded bad times.

Jake said nothing, just waiting for his mother to continue.

"Do you happen to know what time it is?" she went on in that same too-cheerful tone.

Jake shook his head.

Jean tilted her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Do you know or don't you?"

"I don't know, mom," Jake said quietly.

"I see." She turned to me. "Steve, do you know?"

I nodded. "I do."

"And what time is it?" Jean pressed.

"1:42," I replied.

"So it is," Jean agreed. "And it's late so you'll forgive me if I ask you to refresh my memory…Jake, what time were you supposed to be home?"

Jake mumbled something.

"You'll have to speak up," I suggested helpfully.

Jake cleared his throat, his eyes glued to the floor. "Ten o'clock," he repeated.

"That's right!" Jean exclaimed. "And yet here we are nearly _four hours_ later and you're just getting home. That's like the difference between expecting you to be home at six and expecting you to be home at ten. And I'm sure you'll agree that that's quite a big difference."

"It is," Jake agreed cautiously, looking like he didn't know whether he was expected to speak or not but not wanting to make the wrong move. Not that there really was a _right_ move in this situation but some moves were less wrong than others.

"Where were you?" I asked him.

Jake looked faintly panicked. "I…" he started to say then stopped.

"Yes?" I prompted. It wasn't a difficult question.

"I was just out," Jake finished lamely.

"Out _where_?" Jean demanded.

Jake shrugged. "Out walking around. You know."

"No I _don't_ know and it's certainly not acceptable for you to be walking around by yourself or even with friends at this hour!" Jean declared.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, looking miserable.

"'Sorry'?" I echoed. "You won't even tell us where you were."

"What?" Jake asked, startled.

"Contrary to what you may believe, Jake, I was not born yesterday or even the day before that," I said evenly. "You haven't told us where you were and we might not be able to make you but there are going to be some serious consequences from all of this."

Like my own parents had in my paranoid teenage mind, Jean and I had spent some of the time we were waiting for Jake discussing what punishments we'd give him when he finally got back. It was his own fault for giving us so much time to think about the matter.

"Effective immediately, you are going to come straight home from school every day and stay inside the house unless you're accompanied by one of us or if it's a pre-approved school function," Jean began.

"There will be no phone privileges, no internet, no television, and no Sega," I continued. "You're going to have a chore list to complete every day and if you fail to do so then that's just going to extend your punishment."

Jake was looking fairly horrified at this point. I don't blame him. It's a pretty harsh punishment but then again he had put us through hell and it couldn't happen again.

"For how long?" he finally managed to ask.

"Indefinitely," Jean said flatly.

Jake looked like he was about to argue but instead slumped, defeated. "Okay."

"Now run along and get to bed," Jean instructed. "You have a busy day ahead of you."

Jake slowly made his way up the stairs and disappeared around the corner into his room.

"Are we being too hard on him?" Jean asked softly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll find out. But maybe next time he'll think twice before putting us through something like this."

Jean closed her eyes and groaned. "There's going to be a next time?"

I didn't want to think about it but there probably would be. Jake was still a teenager after all.

There were times when I couldn't quite remember why I had been so eager to have children in the first place.

Thank God that Tom, at least, is on the right path.

Review Please!


	46. Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

We've been so busy lately that I didn't even realize it was getting to be Thanksgiving until I was about to walk out the door yesterday morning and my mom helpfully reminded me that we didn't have any school. That probably would have been mentioned _at_ school on Monday and Tuesday if I'd gone but we had Yeerks to fight and so the Chee had gone to school in our places. It was a good thing, too, because I was apparently supposed to give some sort of English presentation. I forgot about that, as well.

It's really not a good sign when so much of your life is slipping but at least I don't appear to be slipping on the Yeerk front. Much as I don't want it to be, that is the main priority and – if it came right down to is – all that _really_ matters.

But yesterday I saw a movie with my family and we went out and bought way too much food of Thanksgiving (we got _four_ kinds of pie! Who needs four kinds of pie?) and my dad complained that he wanted to watch Scrooged but he couldn't because it was 'blasphemous' to watch Christmas movies before Thanksgiving.

Of course, tomorrow – merely one day after Thanksgiving and still November – we're putting up the Christmas Tree and getting sucked completely into the Christmas Season.

Is it strange to be Jewish and celebrate Christmas? Marco thinks so. _I_ think that there's nothing weird about wanting to get in on a lot of presents and Rudolph and Frosty and all those old Christmas movies.

But all that will come later. Currently, I'm hiding in my room and waiting for lunch to be ready. I really should have gotten in on those donuts my dad bought this morning but I actually slept in for once and he and Tom polished them off. I shouldn't really say 'hiding' but for some reason my mom always seems to decide any day we have off of school is a great time to give us 'chore lists' and I really don't want to get mine.

Childish, perhaps, but though I never feel like it I am only fifteen. Being childish like this is probably good for me.

"JAKE!" my mom called up to me. I glanced at the clock. 1:27. "LUNCH IS READY!"

A second later there was a knock on the door.

I opened it to see Tom standing there, his hand raised as if to knock again. "Mom said lunch is ready," he said.

"I know," I agreed, nodding. "I heard her. Why did she yell up the stairs to me if she was just going to send you?"

Tom shrugged. "Better question: why did she send me at all if she was just going to tell you herself? I guess she wanted to make absolutely certain you knew."

"Well I am most certainly informed," I remarked before following Tom down to the kitchen.

Of course, when my mom said that lunch was ready she was apparently working from a different definition of the word 'ready' than I was. The turkey was out of the oven and most of the other things had been microwaved (except the stuffing which was cooked on the stove and apparently absorbed the water or something), true. Unfortunately, that still left the table to be set, the food to be brought over and served, and the drinks to be poured. A little sparkling grape juice for the holiday and some milk because my dad had only bought one bottle.

Tom and I divided up those tedious last-minute preparations and then we all sat down to eat.

"Are you sure you don't want any apple stuffing?" my mom asked me.

I made a face. I wasn't entirely sure what stuffing was but it did not sound like it would be very appetizing with apple flavoring. "I'm sure."

"You at least have to have some sweet potatoes. Give me your plate," she instructed.

"I don't see why," I complained but nonetheless passed my plate over. "You know I don't like them and I don't think they're _that_ good for you."

"They are," my dad disagreed.

"Besides, Jake, your taste buds change year after year. Who knows, this year you might actually enjoy it," Tom suggested.

"I won't," I vowed, accepting my plate back and trying to ignore the way that the juice from the sweet potatoes was running into my roll and probably ruining it.

"If you make up your mind to hate something without even giving it a chance then you might succeed in hating it but that doesn't mean that you'd naturally hate it and you're only making yourself miserable," Tom said sagely. It was good advice but, then, again…

"You're talking about the Sharing," I accused.

He looked innocent. "I was quite distinctly talking about you and your sweet potato thing."

"Well then you were thinking it," I amended.

He shrugged. "What's so wrong with that? And in any event, you're the one who brought it up."

So I did. But then the Sharing, the Yeerks, they were never that far from my thoughts and certainly not when Tom was around.

"Boys, settle down," my mom ordered. "Let's pray so we can eat."

My dad, who had lifted a forkful of turkey up to his mouth, reluctantly put it down. "Oh, right."

"Now let's all go around the table and say what we're thankful for," my dad said once the prayer was done. "Who wants to go first?"

There were no volunteers for a moment.

"I'll go," Tom said at last. "I'm thankful that I found the Sharing and that it's truly changed my life and made me into a better person."

I put far more effort into not rolling my eyes than I probably should have had to. And then, of course, it was difficult not to keep thinking about that when the Yeerk wouldn't stop talking about it. The Sharing truly had changed Tom's life and the Yeerk in his head's. Not all change was good, though.

"I'm just thankful that we're all here together," my mom said. "It's been a rough year with Saddler and Grandpa G and Tom almost drowning and I'm thankful that we've made it through in one peace."

Oh, if only she knew. But of course, I don't want her to and if I had it my way she never would. Not that she can stay blissfully ignorant forever (not unless she dies soon and I certainly don't want _that_) but she can today.

"I'm thankful that we have a wonderful meal and there is going to be a great game of football on later," my dad declared.

"Really, Dad?" Tom asked, amused. "Football?"

"Your mother took 'family'," my dad defended. "Quick, Jake, distract him with what you're thankful for."

I was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. There were a lot of things I was thankful for. I was thankful that my parents weren't Controllers. I was thankful that the Yeerk in Tom's head was still somehow unaware that I knew. I was thankful that I hadn't gotten any of my friends killed yet. I was thankful that I wouldn't have to go into battle today or tomorrow. I couldn't say any of that, though.

"I'm thankful that the four of us can all be here together today," I said at last. The five of us, really, but I'm not thankful for the Yeerk's presence. I wonder about my brother far more than is good for my sanity given that I have to just let this stand and see him every day but some days I wonder more than others. I wonder if there's anything the real Tom is thankful for today. I wonder what it's like for him during these silly little moments of normality when even the Yeerk takes a break from trying to get us infested.

Tom looked pointedly at my dad.

"Traitor," my dad muttered. "And see, if I had gone with family then that would have been all three of us and that's just too many."

"And you somehow knew what Jake was going to say, is that it?" Tom asked skeptically.

My dad nodded solemnly. "I know all."

Tom turned to me. "I suppose I can give you a pass on being mushy today because it's Thanksgiving." He peered down at my glass of sparkling grape juice suspiciously. "But are we _sure_ that those aren't alcoholic?"

"I didn't even drink any!" I protested.

Tom waved a hand. "Technicalities…"

"A toast," my dad said, raising his glass. "To family."

"Oh, _now_ he says it," my mom said, grinning.

After we all clinked our glasses together (I never did quite understand why people did that and always clinked as lightly as I could out of some irrational fear of breaking a glass. Well, it was only irrational until someone broke one in my presence, I suppose, but that has yet to happen), my dad turned to Tom. "You know, if I had gone with family like your mother and Jake then you would have been the only person who didn't and it would have looked like you were more thankful for the Sharing than for us."

"That's fine," Tom said easily. "At the Sharing they value having your own mind."

I really cannot be blamed if I couldn't control the laughter that burst out of me at that. Really? The Yeerks value humans having their own mind? Well, it was news to me. The others would be glad to hear it.

Tom glared at me. "Well they _do_."

"Jake, don't laugh at your brother's club," my mom said reprovingly.

Once I got myself back under control, I nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, Tom."

"Apology accepted," he said tersely. "Hey, how are those sweet potatoes?"

Now it was my turn to glare.

"Come on, Jake, take a bite," my mom insisted.

"Oh, come on, I'm not a kid," I objected. "I can eat them later."

"Or you can eat them now," my mom said pointedly. "Just the one."

I looked to my dad for help but he was apparently very engrossed in his mashed potatoes.

Slowly, reluctantly, I speared a sweet potato with my fork. I've never understood the apparent fascination that people have with sweet potatoes. At my school they've had baked sweet potatoes that look like a deformed baby or something and sweet potato fries that, while I may never have tried, certainly look too carrot-like to make an appealing kind of fry.

"Come on, Jake," Tom said, amused. "You can do it. I have faith."

I inched the fork closer to my mouth. Well…I say 'inch' but it was probably closer to centimeters.

"The sooner you eat it, the sooner you'll be done with it," my dad pointed out.

"Yeah," I said, relieved to have a reason to halt the inexorable progress the fork was making to my mouth. "But that doesn't change the fact it will be awful when it's _in_ my mouth and it will probably have a nasty aftertaste, too. And let's not forget the other sweet potatoes Mom'll make me eat."

"Just focus on the one on your fork," my mom advised, not even _trying_ to deny it.

I've consumed Hork-Bajir and Taxxon flesh before. I've taken a bite out of a few of the Visser's morphs and on one rather unpleasant occasion I had had to bite a human. I've tasted things that are, objectively, far grosser than sweet potatoes. Thinking that really wasn't helping with this.

I finally leaned in and took a bite of the sweet potato.

"You barely got any!" Tom noted. "It's going to take you forever at this rate."

I took a deep breath, concentrating. I then popped the entire bit of sweet potato in my mouth and swallowed practically without chewing.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" my mom asked cheerfully.

"Yes, yes it was," I disagreed. That's the problem with all this war-fighting. It makes you feel like an adult and then you come home and have to do things like eat food you don't like because it's healthy for you and explain where you were and why you missed curfew and it's maddening. I shouldn't have to put up with this but I'm fifteen and so I do and I keep my mouth shut.

"Poor baby," Tom teased.

I immediately stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed. "Yeah, that'll convince me otherwise."

"No fighting or your mother and I might have to eat those pies all by ourselves," my dad threatened.

Tom and I exchanged semi-panicked looks.

"Truce!" we cried simultaneously.

No, it wasn't perfect – not by a long shot – but it was the best we could do right now and, to be honest, it wasn't half-bad.

Review Please!


	47. Run

Run

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Tom had dragged himself painfully to the steps. He was sitting there holding his knee, not sure which part of him hurt worse. "You can run, but you can't hide," he said, spitting blood through his teeth. "We'll take you. We'll take you all!"_

"_Where's the baseball bat?" I wondered._

"_The soft invasion is over," Tom jeered. "The real war is about to begin. We'll have you all! You're our meat! You're our __**meat**__!"_

_-Megamorphs #4._

The last thing I expected was for the Andalites' long-awaited arrival to go so very terribly wrong.

I hadn't really known what to expect when they finally arrived because there had never been a force sent to Earth before. I was a little discouraged by the fact that the Yeerks had been there for _years_ (and I had been taken a year ago myself) without the slightest hint of Andalite interest but the Yeerks were all convinced that it was just a matter of time.

I knew that the best-case scenario would be that the Andalites would come in and crush the Yeerks and we'd all be free, the planet saved. I didn't really think that that was going to happen, though, because even if the Andalite did win I was still a Controller and so the Yeerk might not be willing to go down without a fight and I might die.

Since my infestation, I've become a lot more cynical so part of me has always half-expected that the Andalites would lose and the Yeerks could continue to enslave my people. Just the same, I hadn't quite expected the massacre forty days ago. It's a bit sad when you realize that you're not quite cynical _enough_ but I think I've corrected that now.

The Andalites (especially Prince Elfangor who had quite a nice last stand despite the Visser's attempts to demean him) did do some damage but ultimately they might as well not have even shown up.

I _wish_ they hadn't bothered to come at all.

See, not all the Andalites died. At least one survived and they decided that the only rational course of action was to expose the invasion.

I suppose that, if I were inclined to be fair which I'm not, it did make a certain sense. There's not much that just one (or even a handful) of Andalites can do. Yes, Andalites are formidable in battle and yes they can morph. Just the same, so few a number cannot possibly hope to defeat the army that the Yeerks have amassed on Earth. The Yeerks have only taken a few thousand hosts at this point and there are six billion free people on this planet. Letting us know – _them_ – gives them the ability to fight for their planet.

And yet.

And yet our technology isn't nearly good enough to take theirs. They can just sit up in the atmosphere, untouchable, while they annihilate our cities and wipe us out by the millions.

Yes, that would waste perfectly good host bodies but there are nowhere near six billion Yeerks in existence. The empire would like nothing more than to change that but if it comes right down to it they can wipe out a vast majority of the population and still provide bodies for every Yeerk in the galaxy.

I know that just passively allowing the Yeerks to continue to invade us won't win us any great victories and that a miracle might occur and we _could_ win this way but…the battle is starting in my hometown. The battle is starting with my little brother.

Jake had mercifully decided that the Sharing was too pushy and stopped attending (and been rather put-out with the Yeerk when he wouldn't just let it go) but that had only kept him safe for a few days.

The Andalite had broadcast from one station and, despite the fact it turned out that they knew nothing, said station had been infested. Now all of the stations except that one had been had had the Andalite explaining the war.

The Yeerks are trying to do damage control – like that would work – and in the meantime they're taking this as a sign to start being a bit more obvious about their presence. 'A bit.' Who am I kidding? They were going to take this as a sign that their cover was blown so they might as well start with the actual sci-fi movie type of invasion and cut the infiltration. They might not win. They probably will but maybe not. Either way, it's too late for the people here.

When I got home (just in time to hear the end of Andalite's message), Jake was on the phone with Cassie and discussing the news. They believed it and they must have known something more than I had thought. They correctly identified several Controllers.

I was one of those Controllers.

I didn't know whether to count myself lucky that the Yeerk hadn't decided to kill Jake outright (and Marco, of course, but I didn't have much room to be concerned about people who weren't Jake) given that the alternative was to take him to a Yeerk Pool.

I don't want my brother to die but I don't want him to be a slave, either.

((It's one or the other at this point, human,)) the Yeerk cut into my thoughts. He wasn't in a good mood. ((Of course not! That cousin of yours is barbaric.))

((She was protecting Jake. I would have done the same if I could,)) I defended her automatically. I could feel the pain as well but I didn't begrudge her that all things considered.

((But you couldn't,)) the Yeerk said smugly. ((All that fighting and I still had complete control. Face it: for all the little moments you've gotten in when I've been distracted, when it _really_ counts all the power is mine.))

I knew that. It wasn't a pleasant thought, nor was the fact that I had no idea what would happen when my parents got home. The Yeerk was no longer going to keep up the pretence and it was entirely possible – probable even – that they would be infested out of both convenience and as a sort of revenge against Jake for getting away.

I had already witnessed those who had come outside to see what was going on when someone's Dracon Bean sliced through the house dragged away. Fortunately, my wonderful cousin Rachel had been quite thorough in her attacks and so I'm not in any shape to help with that. If I'm very, very lucky then I won't be in a state to help with my parents when their time comes.

See, I know them and I know that no matter what they've seen or heard they won't be able to quite bring themselves to believe that I'm the enemy. And while it's very true that _I'm_ not, the Yeerk controlling my body is and it's so hard to tell the difference from the outside. Jake seems to have gotten the picture, at least.

As difficult as it is to face, my little brother will very likely be better off if he never sees me again. At least that way I won't have to play a part in destroying him (whether it be through death or infestation) and I'll be able to at least try to keep the hope that he's still out there somewhere.

((Your brother is a child,)) the Yeerk scoffed, voicing the thoughts that I didn't dare acknowledge. ((He is not prepared for this and not intelligent enough to make it through. If he's not already dead by now then he will be soon. And that's only if one of our people doesn't take him first.))

I don't want to hear this; I really don't.

((You really should learn to face reality,)) the Yeerk said condescendingly. ((And if you don't like it then I think you know whose to blame.))

((You people?)) I asked rhetorically.

((No, the Andalites,)) the Yeerk corrected.

((The last time I checked the _Andalites_ weren't the ones invading and enslaving people,)) I pointed out.

((No,)) the Yeerk conceded. ((But if it weren't for them then your brother wouldn't be in any more danger than he was last week-)) the 'unfortunately' went unspoken but I knew how he felt about m y brother ((-and we wouldn't be forced to step things up. This will make things very annoying for us.))

Annoying for them, catastrophic for us.

((Even so you're still the ones deciding to invade in the first place!)) I exclaimed. ((Take some goddamn responsibility!))

((Language, Tom,)) the Yeerk said mockingly the way my parents would have if they'd heard me. ((And I'd like nothing more than to take responsibility for our invasion, don't get me wrong. I just thought I'd point out the role that the self-appointed 'saviors of the galaxy' played in this.))

I didn't want to argue about the Andalites. I was furious at whoever he was myself even if the actions of the Yeerks are still _clearly_ more their own fault than anyone else's.

((I do so love it when a host comes around to my way of thinking,)) the Yeerk said brightly.

((I'm _not_-)) I started to say wearily and then stopped. What did it even matter?

((This day keeps getting better and better,)) the Yeerk said approvingly. ((Once I make that human who hit me suffer then this will all have worked out for the best.))

The ships had moved on from our area and so, very slowly and very painfully, the Yeerk pulled me to my feet and headed indoors and to the sofa in the family room. He hadn't bothered to wash off any of the blood and so the sofa was going to be a mess. Under normal circumstances (circumstances like the world not ending) my mother would have a heart attack and very possibly kill me but now I knew she wouldn't get a chance. And what did one stained sofa matter in the face of everything else, anyway?

The Yeerk switched on the television set. I wasn't surprised to see that the 'sudden' invasion was being discussed.

((While we wait for your people to be doomed, or your body to heal I suppose but I think we both know which will come first, we may as well see just how wrong they can get everything,)) the Yeerk suggested.

((How can they possibly not get it? That Andalite spelled it all out,)) I replied, more out of habit than anything else.

((I understand your confusion but you must remember that we are talking about _human beings_ here,)) the Yeerk answered innocently. ((They'll find a way.))

Sure enough, the very next person who offered an opinion believed that, despite the damage the Yeerks were doing, the invasion was essentially peaceful. A couple people believed that we must have brought this on ourselves and were being judged for our crimes. Someone said that the Yeerks had to be benevolent because they had advanced technology. There were whispers that this was the end of days. I might be able to get behind that, actually.

There were plenty of people who realized the truth but to hear it all intercut with people who apparently can't detect an invasion when it's helpfully announced and followed by an all-out attack was just…

((I know,)) the Yeerk said, sounding sympathetic. ((I can't stand humans either.))

I heard the key turn in the lock. My parents were home.

It was too late.

Run, Jake.

_Run._

Review Please!


	48. The Cynical Perspective

The Cynical Perspective

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

We had been back on Earth for about an hour now and Marco hadn't stopped talking about how wonderful Earth was and how he was never going to leave it ever again. Of course, he had been doing that the entire time we were gone and even before we had left so it was getting a little tiring.

"Tell me how you _really_ feel, Marco," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What?" Marco asked innocently. "Usually I only get this kind of reaction if I'm complaining."

"You _are_ complaining," I told him.

"No, I'm not," he insisted. "I'm praising."

"You're so good at complaining that you can do it while praising things," I replied.

Marco stopped walking and put his hands on his hips. "Jake! I am shocked – _shocked_ I tell you! – that you would think that I could be that diabolical."

I shrugged, stopping as well. "You'll get over it."

Marco sighed. "Probably. Just not _too_ over it, you know? I don't want to forget what a terrible experience that was and let myself get roped into going on another off-planet mission."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," I protested.

"Well, except for that Arn constantly referring to Cassie as 'the vessel' and Ax and Aldrea bickering nonstop," I admitted. "I would have thought that Cassie would mind having to share her body but it didn't seem to upset her. I just wish that Aldrea hadn't lied to us about knowing where the weapons were."

Marco eyed me strangely. "What are you talking about? Aldrea told us back on Earth that she didn't know where the weapons were but would be willing to guess."

I frowned. "I don't remember that."

"I figured when you yelled at her for not mentioning that when we got to the Hork-Bajir world," Marco replied.

"Why didn't you say anything then?" I asked him.

"Honestly, I just didn't care enough," Marco said flippantly.

I snorted. "I'm glad your apathy was stronger than your desire to prove you were smarter than everyone else in that instance. I don't think even Aldrea remembered."

"Oh, well if even _Aldrea_ didn't…" Marco trailed off.

"What did you think of Aldrea, anyway?" I asked curiously.

I hadn't quite been able to bring myself to like or trust her after what I thought was her lie about knowing where the weapons were. If I were being really honest, though, I had had a problem ever since she first decided to pick Cassie instead of the more conventional choices of Rachel or Toby. I had tried to put that aside as a leader, however, and I had always admired her in the stories the Hork-Bajir told about her. She was just like us, really, a kid caught up in a war too big for them to handle but determined to give the Yeerks hell before she went. The only difference was that she was on a strange world as well so maybe she was more like Ax than us. Not that I would ever tell _him_ that of course. He seemed to take her decision to be a _nothlit_ (if it even was a decision and not an accident, the story wasn't clear on that) personally.

"I like her name. 'Aldrea' is pretty cool," he replied.

"Fascinating. Now what do you think about _her_?" I pressed.

Marco shrugged. "I can't say I'm a fan."

"Why not?" I wondered. Since he had realized about the weapons and generally wasn't as concerned about Cassie as I was, I could only assume it was something completely different.

"I know that she was just a kid like us but some of her decisions violated the real lesson learned from the Yeerks," Marco explained.

I thought back. " 'Don't be a dumbass'?" I asked. It was something like that at any rate.

Marco nodded. "Don't be a dumbass."

"Oh come on," I objected. "How did she possibly violate that? We didn't even hear her full story."

"You're right," Marco acknowledged. "So it's possible that she violated that principle several other times or maybe it was just the two."

"This should be good," I deadpanned.

"You know, Jake, you are the one who asked. I don't have to tell you," Marco said pointedly.

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "No, come on, tell me."

"It's just…it was pretty obvious once the Andalites left that the Hork-Bajir world was going to fall, right? Even Aldrea mentioned something about that, I believe. And things were really bad even when the Andalites were there hence the biological weapons," Marco said slowly.

"I think so, yeah," I agreed.

"So why in the world did she become a _nothlit_?" Marco asked, confused. "I mean, I don't care what species she chose, I just think that becoming one at all was really, really stupid."

"She never actually said _why_ she was becoming a _nothlit_ or if she even did it on purpose. She was knocked out, remember?" I reminded him.

"I hope you're right and it was an accident," Marco said grimly.

"Why?" I asked. "After all, with Alloran having just released the Quantum virus-"

"With Aldrea, Dak, and what's-his-name accidentally releasing the Quantum virus," Marco corrected.

He had me there but I quickly rallied. "Well the Andalites created it and probably would have used it if they hadn't."

"But they _didn't_," Marco said emphatically.

"Either way, once the virus the Andalites created was killing off the Hork-Bajir and then abandoning them to the Yeerks I don't think she could bear to be an Andalite anymore," I theorized.

Marco looked like that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"What?" I said defensively. "You couldn't come up with anything better."

"No, I'm not saying you're wrong. It's just that if you're right then it's even stupider than I thought," Marco replied.

"You wouldn't not want to be human anymore if a human had attempted to commit genocide?" I asked rhetorically. Then I remembered that humans _have_ tried to commit genocide on other humans are there are some groups still trying. "Okay, bad example."

"I wouldn't," Marco told me. "And while, you know, that was a terrible, terrible thing to do and I think we can all agree on that, I have to ask myself whether the Yeerks wouldn't have already won if it hadn't been for most of the Hork-Bajir being wiped out."

I stared at him. "Why in the world do you _have_ to ask yourself that? That seems like the sort of question that's best to pointedly ignore."

Marco shrugged. "I would if I could."

I really didn't want to have this conversation. Every time I thought about that Quantum virus I asked myself what I would have done in that situation and if I would ever use one. I didn't know and I wasn't happy with the answer either way. Either I was the sort of person who could commit genocide or I was the kind of person who would doom the galaxy to Yeerk control because I couldn't get past my own scruples.

"Back to Aldrea being stupid?" I prompted.

Marco nodded. "Right, that. Jake, I've had my arm torn off, my leg torn off, my very intestines spilling from my body. I almost die with alarming regularity."

"I'm…sorry?" What did he want me to say.

"Thank you," Marco replied. "You see, when I nearly get myself killed I can just demorph and I'm back to normal. It's very convenient."

"So it is," I agreed.

"If I were a _nothlit_ then I'd have to be much more careful in fights and if I got injured at all then it would take me weeks to recuperate. If the injury is bad enough I might never be able to fight again. I could even die," Marco said seriously.

"People usually do die when they have their guts spilling out of them," I remarked.

"Before Aldrea became a _nothlit_ she could choose what form was most effective for battle and use it, she could feel free to be much more reckless and damaging in battle, and she could shake off whatever injury she received and be ready to go again after a good night's sleep," Marco continued. "Afterwards she was so much less useful in a fight. The thought that she would turn herself into maybe half the fighter she once was because she was just _so_ upset…yeah, I can't respect that. I can't even understand it. It is _really_ stupid."

"She was just a kid," I reminded him.

"So am I," Marco countered. "But like you said, maybe it was an accident and she didn't want to admit it."

Maybe Tobias hadn't been an accident and he didn't want to admit _that_.

I didn't want to think about that either.

"And what's the other thing that Aldrea did that pissed you off?"I inquired.

"I'm not sure I'd go _that_ far," Marco prevaricated. "But it was having children."

I couldn't believe it. "You're judging her for having children? What, you think she was too stupid to reproduce? Keep in mind, it wasn't her DNA she was even passing on."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Of course not. You think I'm into eugenics?"

I didn't actually know what that was so I said nothing. It sounded pretty rhetorical anyway.

"It's just that it was the middle of a war and if you're living and fighting on the front lines it's really no place to have a baby. Not to mention that she's already no more useful than anyone else and she took herself out of the way for however long it took to have the baby and physically recover for it. If she were a human she would have been out of the fight for almost a year," Marco pointed out. "With Hork-Bajir it might be less."

"Well what was she supposed to do?" I demanded. "Wait until the war was over? The war was never going to _be_ over, Marco."

"Which is why she should have _never_ had children," Marco responded. "She was just bringing a child into the war to be a soldier and to die fighting Yeerks. And that was only _if_ he was lucky, which he wasn't. She knowingly brought a child into the world to be a husk for a Yeerk. I can't believe she ever would have thought that was a good idea. And even if it was an accident she should have been more careful."

"Without Aldrea and Dak having a child then there would be no Toby," I pointed out. He had given all of this a great deal more thought than I had and I knew I wouldn't convince him anyway. "And no Toby means that the free colony of Hork-Bajir wouldn't be doing half as well as they are now. Who knows if they would have managed to free anyone else without her?"

"Aldrea and Dak couldn't _possibly_ have known that," Marco said disdainfully.

"I am _really_ glad you didn't say any of that to Aldrea," I told him, somewhat gratefully.

"I'm not stupid," Marco announced. "And honestly, I'm just glad that Cassie didn't decide to betray us again and stay on the Hork-Bajir world letting Aldrea pretend she was still alive."

I frowned. "Wait what do you mean 'betray us again'? When did Cassie ever betray us?"

Marco winced, seeming to regret his word choice. "Never mind."

I wasn't about to let it go, though. "Come on, man, tell me."

"If you don't think of it as a betrayal then you don't think of it as a betrayal and since she's your girlfriend you'll just get mad," Marco reasoned.

"No I won't," I promised.

"You can't know that," Marco pointed out.

I rolled my eyes again. "Well I'll _definitely_ get mad if you don't tell me."

"Fine," Marco said, giving in. "But don't say I didn't warn you. You remember Aftran?"

What kind of a question was that? Of course I remembered her. I had been terrified for weeks after we let her go that she was going to bring the full might of the Yeerk Empire down on us but she never had and she had almost died because of it. Now there was a whole different group of Yeerks that knew about us and might one day be caught like Aftran was that we had to worry about. At least we knew that they wouldn't betray us on purpose. Well…assuming that the Peace Movement didn't make a mistake and induct a spy.

So, yes, I did remember Aftran quite well.

Marco nodded. "I see that you do. You weren't there but I did tell you about how when I finally found her with Aftran she decided that rather than let me kill one Controller she was going to make herself a Controller and get us all infested or killed."

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't her thought process," I told him.

"Probably not, if only because I'm sure she didn't have one or she wouldn't have done what she did," Marco muttered.

"Can you really blame her? I mean, yeah, I know she put us in a lot of danger but that girl was like nine!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, yes I can," Marco said shortly.

"Are you trying to tell me that you would have had no problem killing her?" I asked incredulously. "Because you know I won't believe you."

"Of course I would have had a problem killing her!" Marco assured me. "She was nine, after all. But the end result of killing her was one dead little girl and one dead Yeerk and you know I wouldn't have felt bad about _that_."

"And the end result of not killing her was one free little girl, one _nothlit_ Yeerk, and an entire movement dedicated to fighting the Yeerks from within and treating their hosts well," I countered.

The Yeerk Peace Movement made me incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't _just_ that they knew our secret although that would have been enough on its own. No, it was the worry of what would come after the war. Maybe it's naïve and a little presumptuous to start thinking about a life _after_ the war but I wonder about it all the same. For now, having Yeerks that oppose forcible infestation and treat hosts nicely is a wonderful thing. Once the war is over, though, would those Yeerks be willing to leave or would we have to deal with voluntary Controllers still? Maybe it wasn't any of my business but I won't consider it a real victory until there are no more Controllers ever. I don't even know what would happen to the Yeerks – and I usually don't care – but I don't want to share my planet with even one slug puppet master, no matter how willing.

Those concerns were a long way off, though, and I just hope that one day I'll have nothing better to do than address them.

"Just because it happened to work out doesn't mean that it wasn't still incredibly stupid," Marco protested.

"Hey, you walked away just like the rest of us did," I reminded him. "And you were the one who saved Karen and Aftran from the leopard."

Marco made a face. "Cassie infected me with her caring."

"You make it sound like a disease," I said, amused. In a lot of ways, Marco was the anti-Cassie.

Marco tilted his head. "Do I? Hm…"

"So we all made the decision to let Aftran go and everything worked out. Does that mean we all betrayed each other?" I wondered.

Marco shook his head. "No, the betrayal was when Cassie chose saving that Controller over the entire planet."

"How is that choosing Aftran and Karen over everything else?" I demanded.

"She didn't know that Aftran could be trusted," Marco said flatly. "She just hoped. And yeah, I remember your speech. Hope is good sometimes and whatnot. I also remember that Aftran was quite antagonistic to me and even before I revealed myself it was clear that Aftran hadn't made her miraculous transformation yet. Even if she was having her doubts, Cassie just handed her the key to everything she ever wanted."

I didn't want to admit that Marco had a point.

"But she didn't take it," I said weakly.

Marco shook his head. "It doesn't even matter. She became a voluntary Controller and she gave a Yeerk not only the power to morph – and we all know just how damaging _one_ morph-capable Yeerk is – but all of us, as well. If that Yeerk had chosen to then the Yeerks would have known everything about us. And not just us, either, but our families and the Hork-Bajir and the Chee. We couldn't go home and we couldn't go anywhere we've ever been before. We couldn't even be sure that Cassie the intuitive one couldn't figure out where we'd hide and be able to find us. She betrayed us."

I peered at him closely. "You never said anything."

Marco shrugged. "Yeah, well, by the time we found her again I thought she was going to spend the rest of her life as a bug and once we got her back I was too relieved to start anything."

"You know that she didn't mean to betray us and she'd be horrified if she knew you thought that," I told him.

"I do, yeah," Marco agreed. "It wouldn't make us any less dead had Aftran been less noble, though. I mean, what's next? Outright giving the Yeerks the power to morph in some misguided hope that they become her friends, too?"

"Now you're just being ridiculous," I told him, annoyed. "Cassie would never do that."

"We can only hope," Marco said ominously.

Sometimes when I watch every move my brother makes searching for signs that he _knows_ or that he's planning to take me or my parents I worry that I'm getting too paranoid.

Then I talk to Marco.

Review Please!


	49. Equity

Equity

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: Inspiration for this chapter came from Zarohk Korobase.

_And now my father, Tom, and I had eight hours of boring, highway driving ahead of us. _

_Tom sat in the front seat with my father, sulking and giving monosyllabic answers to my father's forcedly cheerful questions. _

_I answered a few, but my heart wasn't in it either, and after about ten miles, my father just stopped trying. _

_-Animorphs #31. _

I have never been a fan of long drives. There's nothing **bad** about them, per se, but they're mind-numbingly boring. I've never been much of a reader and I got a headache from trying to read in a moving vehicle anyway. The radio's is pretty hit-and-miss and there's inevitably a lot of commercials and DJs who aren't half as amusing as they think they are in between all of the songs. Taking a CD player just drains the batteries and it's hard to take enough CDs to last the trip besides.

You would think that having someone else living in your head would help reduce the boredom and to some extent you'd be right but there are far worse things in this world than a little boredom.

For example, right now the Yeerk is raging against my father for forcing him to come to my great-grandfather's funeral and my brother for accidentally stopping himself and my father from being murdered on the lawn in what I'm sure would have been a shocking gang-related incident. The Sharing, naturally, would come out in favor of cleaning up our streets and being there for me and the whole thing would advance the Yeerks' interests nicely.

I don't know what the Yeerk is planning in order to get back home and survive but I can definitely feel him planning _something_. I'd tried to point out that the smartest thing would have been to just not go rather than trying to sneak back once he was there or to actually have to kill someone and draw negative attention to the Sharing (my reasons for not wanting them dead were far different but the Yeerk is hardly sentimental). The Yeerk hadn't been listening, though, and I'm worried.

My father and brother are mere feet from a creature that would just as soon kill them as look at them and might even be plotting their destruction right this very minute and they have no idea.

If only I could warn them. I always wanted to do that, even when the situation wasn't so dire as it was now. Even when the Yeerk was not possibly actively plotting their murders, I always wanted to shout to the world (and, more importantly, my family) that we are not alone. The Yeerks are here and they will not stop until they've enslaved us all. The Andalites are doing all they can but there are only a half a dozen or so of them and to say they're outnumbered is rather understating things a bit.

And even should the Andalites miraculously hold the Yeerks off, that won't protect the people I care about. So far my family is staying away from the Sharing but they really have no reason to so one day they might change their minds. Or even if they don't, they could still walk in on something they're not supposed to witness if they're not careful. Jake's probably the least likely to do that with the way he always knocks before coming into my room and walking loudly so the Yeerk can hear him coming and act natural. Still, if my parents see something they shouldn't – like I did – then Jake might get infested anyway so as not to inconvenience the Yeerks.

Of course, if I did have any measure of control over myself besides the odd opportune twitch, there's so much more I'd want to do. I'd tie myself up so I couldn't escape or knock myself out and wait for three days to pass, probably less if this wasn't immediately after the Yeerk fed. I'd starve the Yeerk out and even if I had to go into hiding at least I'd be free and could try to keep my family safe instead of being an outright threat to them.

But it's foolish to think about all the things that I would do if I could because if I could do any of that then I wouldn't be a Controller so there would be no need to get rid of the Yeerk. I probably wouldn't even know enough to keep _myself_ safe, let alone anyone I cared about. It's ironic to think about the possibility of not knowing _enough _to keep safe since my problem has always been knowing too much. I wish I could have had Jake's habit of knocking before entering places. If I had then I would have only seen the Visser in morph and could have just left. Assuming I didn't fall for their spiel, of course, which I refuse to consider might have happened.

{Now, human, don't you think you're being unfair?} the Yeerk asked, breaking the silence for the first time in hours.

{It lives,} I muttered.

{Of course it does,} the Yeerk agreed. {Trust me when I say that you'd notice if I died inside your head. Not that I would, really. Yeerk instinct causes us to withdraw at the end though I never did understand why. There's no guarantee that a host would be standing above a life-giving Yeerk Pool.}

{No, I don't think I'm being at all unfair in wanting you gone,} I replied in answer to his earlier question. {I think that if anyone's being unfair then it's you for trying to kill my family members.}

{You have only those delinquents who trashed your father's car and you father himself for not staying at that meeting and getting infested to blame,} the Yeerk assured me. {And your father for making us go and starting all of this in the first place. And yourself for getting infested before that. Really, I'm only doing what I have to do.}

{Why couldn't you just have not gone?} I demanded.

{It's a little late for that,} the Yeerk said, ignoring my perfectly reasonable question. {Human, I've only been here for about a year and a half now and your previous Yeerk was only around for a little over a year. You're seventeen so that still leaves you with fifteen or so years of controlling your body.}

I was baffled. What did that have to do with anything?

{Your math seems correct,} I said finally when the Yeerk did not continue.

{Of course it is,} the Yeerk said imperiously. {Normally, I feel like my past is none of your business-}

{While my past is apparently yours,} I interrupted.

{Indeed,} the Yeerk agreed. {But in this case, I feel that you should know that I have had control of all of my hosts for a sum total of less than fifteen years.}

{…Am I supposed to react in a specific way or…?} I inquired blankly.

{You've been allowed to move for _fifteen entire years_ and I've had far less time than that. Given the life spans of those serving under Visser Three, I may very well never get fifteen years of movement. Tell me how that's supposed to be fair?} the Yeerk challenged.

I couldn't believe what I was…well, not _hearing_ exactly. {Wait, wait, wait…are you trying to tell me that me being enslaved is unfair to _you_ because I didn't get infested until I was fifteen?}

{That's exactly what I'm saying,} the Yeerk confirmed, pleased that I'd caught on at last.

{That is messed up on so many levels that I don't even know where to begin!} I exclaimed.

{I've often found that when people claim they have so many examples or reasons that they can't list any of them then it really doesn't come off as very credible,} the Yeerk noted.

I would have rolled my eyes if I could. But then again, if I could then I wouldn't have needed to now would I? {I can't even remember anything from before I was five or so and certainly nothing clearly before the last few years.}

{That doesn't change the fact that it was you moving,} the Yeerk pointed out.

{But even so, this is _my _body. If we're even talking about fair – which is absurd coming from you by the way – then-}

{Why is it so absurd coming from me?} The Yeerk seemed honestly curious.

It always surprises me when the Yeerk sounds like he's genuinely curious about anything I might be able to tell him because of that whole matter about him being able to read my thoughts as they form and has access to every bit of my brain. It doesn't happen often but the fact that it happens at all is bizarre.

{Because there is nothing _fair_ about stealing someone else's body,} I explained, feeling as though I were trying to explain something to a small child and a rather dim-witted small child at that.

{If you don't think that it's fair that we take your bodies then what about the fact that _we're_ born without bodies at all?} the Yeerk demanded.

{Of course you have bodies,} I snapped. {Everyone has a body. The fact that you apparently think your own are substandard doesn't mean they're not still bodies.}

{Yes it does,} the Yeerk argued stubbornly. {And even if they were bodies – which they're not – then we'd still be blind and deaf and what kind of life is that? At least you get to still see and hear everything and appreciate the beauty of your world.}

I snorted mentally. {_You_ try to 'appreciate' anything when you're trapped in your own head and completely cut off from the world while the slug in your head tries to destroy your life and your planet.}

The Yeerk sighed. {Melodramatic as always, Tom. That's another thing about you humans: you don't appreciate what you have. We Yeerks are much more appreciative of the beauty of Earth and the wonders of being a human.}

{So?} I didn't see the relevance. {Not properly appreciating things doesn't mean that we deserve to be enslaved! Maybe it sucks to be deaf and blind but what you do to us isn't any better!}

{Virtually any Yeerk you will ever meet will disagree with you on that,} the Yeerk informed me flatly.

{Yeah but you would, wouldn't you?} I muttered. {Propaganda, that's what this is. We did it too back when we had slaves. The Bible said it was okay or they weren't really people or they wouldn't know what to do with freedom. There's always an excuse if you're going to be a monster.}

{That's another thing that isn't fair,} the Yeerk said, annoyed. {We have to put up with such ungrateful hosts who insist on fighting back and rebelling every time they turn around. If life were truly fair then I wouldn't have to deal with you arguing with me any time I say anything.}

{Now you think life's not fair because the people you enslave don't just passively welcome you but are a bit put out about the situation?} I asked incredulously. {I'm not sure you quite grasp the concept of fairness, Yeerk.}

{No,} the Yeerk corrected. {I think that life's not fair _and_ that I have to put up with you all the time. I think that we can both agree that life's not fair, though, so get used to it.}

Despite what the Yeerk seems to think, I'm _more_ than used to it. I just somehow hadn't thought that life being unfair would translate into watching my body murder my family members. The Yeerk was right, though. Life wasn't fair and there was nothing I could do.

All that was left was to pray for a last-minute miracle.

Review Please!


	50. Postwar Considerations

Postwar Considerations

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"Jake!" Cassie stormed into my house, allowing the doors to slam behind her rather uncharacteristically.

It's the first time I've seen her since the trial and she's as beautiful as ever. I really should have called her and not waited until she inevitably decided to confront me about this.

I'm trying to remember if I've ever seen her this angry. Maybe when Ax suggested that we respect Aftran's wishes and just kill her before I came up with a way to save her. Well, a way that didn't involve Cassie's crazy idea to become a Controller. None of us would have stood for that.

"Jake!" she called again. "I know you're here; I can see your car."

I hadn't been hiding, whatever she was implying. I had simply been upstairs when she came in. Still saying nothing, I slowly descended the stairs.

"There you are!" she exclaimed.

"It's nice to see you, too, Cassie," I said calmly. "I'm so glad you decided to drop by."

Cassie narrowed her eyes. "Don't brush me off, Jake. I'm not in the mood."

"Some would call that manners," I said mildly. "You didn't call ahead."

"This was too important for that," she said impatiently. "Jake, how could you?"

"How could I what?" I inquired politely. "You'll have to be more specific."

"The hell I do." Cursing isn't typically Cassie but this was something she really believed in and she was right that I was being difficult on purpose.

"Yet if you did then we could get this moving along," I suggested.

Cassie's eyes narrowed further and for a second I almost thought she would hit me but of course she didn't.

"Fine," she ground out. "Jake, why are you ruining the Human-Yeerk Alliance?"

"I don't believe that I _am_ 'ruining' it," I said flatly.

"You said that you would rather _die_ than support them," Cassie reminded me.

The biggest and most complicated postwar issue was the fate of the Yeerks. I may have killed, what was it, 17,372 Yeerks aboard the Pool Ship and several thousand more when we blew up the Yeerk Pool but there were still several thousand located elsewhere – mostly inside of other people – that were still alive and needed to be dealt with.

I don't really know what happened to the Yeerks serving their gutted Empire elsewhere in space but I do know that the Andalites haven't budged from their blockade of the Yeerk Homeworld. Some of the more sympathetic among us think that that's unfair but the Andalites aren't exactly consulting us and it doesn't bother me anyway. I feel bad for the Gedds enslaved by the Yeerks – barely sentient is still sentient – but not the Yeerks themselves. They might have a better quality of life if they had better bodies but the human race would probably have a better quality of life with Wolverine healing and since we've never had it we don't miss it.

Well, maybe Marco.

I do know what happened to the Yeerks on Earth. After we sort of blackmailed the Andalites into respecting our sovereignty by making the Yeerks _nothlits_ (I hadn't really given Alloran much thought in the past but, needless to say, he quickly won me over), Toby immediately refused to donate any Hork-Bajir DNA. The Hork-Bajir fell in line behind their Seer's position though I don't know if any of them would have liked the idea even without that. The Andalites quickly followed, hating the Yeerks just as much if not somehow more than the long-enslaved Hork-Bajir. None of the Yeerks wanted to be a Taxxon – even the Taxxons don't want to be Taxxons – or even a Gedd if there were better options.

And there were better options. Humans.

Prisoners were offered the chance to donate their DNA in exchange for a reduced sentence and many accepted. The general public was offered money in exchange for their DNA. It was mostly the poor who responded to that but there were also the true believers wanting to help or the average person looking to make a few hundred bucks. The potential donors were scanned for obvious DNA issues such as poor eyesight or known genetic conditions and then those who were approved were offered up to the Yeerks.

Each Yeerk was given a few physical attributes such as race and height to choose from and then they were given four humans to acquire and combined their DNA in a Frolis Maneuver in the gender of their choice. No one was allowed to be directly morphed and they also made sure to give no two Yeerks the same four humans to acquire to make absolutely certain that there wouldn't be any identity theft problems on either end in the future.

Every Yeerk had been called upon to get access to the morphing technology and kept there until they were _nothlits_. Some bristled at the perceived lack of trust but this was at the insistence of the Andalites who had decided at some point that there was a big difference between giving Yeerks the power to morph and giving them the power to become a _nothlit. _They could apparently live with the latter but would be damned if they allowed the former.

We had all just sort of assumed that all the Yeerks would have jumped at the chance for bodies of their own where they wouldn't have to either enslave another soul or have to deal with an annoying host depending on how sympathetic they were.

We were wrong.

A few weeks ago, the news broke the story that some Yeerks hadn't left their hosts. It had been kept very quiet but someone had slipped up and been exposed. I don't know how the Yeerks had managed to get ahold of a Kandrona but they had and had formed their own little underground community.

Thankfully, these were all Voluntary Controllers so there wasn't anyone (well, that we knew of) that we had failed to free an entire year and a half after the end. It's bad enough that the Yeerks in the Blade Ship got away.

Immediately the nation was abuzz and the rest of the world soon followed. The still-Controllers all live in California since that's where the Kandrona is and since that's where all the former hosts live as well…well, they didn't react well. Many of the former Yeerks chose to live elsewhere where there's less anger and they can pretend they were always human.

Congress drafted a bill that's still being discussed to make it illegal to both infest and be infested by a Yeerk. This way, both the Yeerk and their human enabler can face charges. The Yeerks and their human hosts had formed the Human-Yeerk Alliance to try to fight back and the debate was still raging on. Everyone knew that if the United States outlawed Controllers then most other countries would follow suit because they wouldn't want to open their borders to the parasites that had come to enslave us all.

Naturally, everyone wanted to know what our opinions were on the matter. Tobias can't be found and Ax refuses to involve himself in human affairs. Marco continues to pretend to have never heard of the issue and grows mysteriously deaf when someone tries to explain it to him. Cassie was on the Human-Yeerk Alliance's side since before they had even formed.

And then there's me.

I normally stay out of things like this and don't give my opinion on major issues (I'm just seventeen. What do I know?) but this time I just couldn't.

"Well someone asked me and I told them the truth," I said finally.

"You had no right-" Cassie began heatedly.

"Excuse me?" I interrupted. "I was _asked_ for my opinion just as you were. And even if I wasn't, I'm pretty sure the First Amendment _makes _it my right."

"Jake, you know that the bill has a lot of popular support and will probably pass," Cassie said, sounding desperate.

"Maybe," I allowed.

"And really, the only hope that we had was the fact that I was on their side," Cassie continued. "After all, I fought against them so if I can forgive them then it encourages their forgiveness as well."

"This isn't about forgiveness," I argued.

"Isn't it?" she asked rhetorically. "My support is completely negated if _you_ are on the other side. Worse than negated either since your word means so much more than mine! You are single-handedly destroying our cause."

"Even if that were true – which it isn't – then that's not my fault," I insisted.

"Why are you so against this anyway?" Cassie demanded.

I laughed harshly. "You cannot _seriously _be asking me that question. We fought a war to free the planet, not to let the Yeerks still control people stupid enough to think it's no big deal or – dare I say it – a good idea!"

"There are a lot of advantages to getting infested," Cassie said seriously. I swear, I do not know who this girl is. "They can be useful for reminding you of things you've forgotten or helping you quit a bad habit. They can help you fight an addiction or be used to safely integrate dangerous criminals back into our society. We could offer people parole with a Yeerk to ensure good behavior. Think of how nice it must be to always have company and never have to worry about being lonely."

I felt sick. "All of those 'perks' aren't worth the price."

"What _price_?" Cassie was beginning to sound frustrated. "It would strictly be voluntary and I doubt many people would even agree to it-"

"Maybe not now but in the future," I cut her off. "Years from now no one will remember the horror of what happened and what almost happened and all they'll see is that laundry list you just recited. Soon the so-called 'benefits' will outweigh any sort of principle and it'll be as if we lost the war but over time Yeerk society evolved into something kinder and gentler."

"Would that really be so bad?" Cassie asked quietly. "I like to think that if we had lost it would have worked out that way. Besides, it's not up to you whether or not people choose to have a Yeerk in their own head."

I crossed my arms. "You're the one who thinks that my position on this is so goddamn important."

"It's not up to the government either!" Cassie cried out. "This bill is wrong."

"If the government can decide if you're allowed to smoke marijuana or have to wear a seatbelt then they can decide if you're allowed to brain-share," I said dryly.

"This isn't the Yeerks that we fought, you know it isn't," Cassie said pleadingly. "These are the Peace Movement Yeerks! They were on our side! One of them even saved your life!"

I refused to let myself think back to that dark night when Cassie had given the Yeerks the morphing technology.

"So they did," I said quietly. "But that was only ever going to be an alliance that went so far. Ultimately, our goals were different. All we agreed upon was that the invasion went too far and hosts were people, too."

"They deserve better than this," Cassie said defiantly.

"Better than _what_, Cassie?" I demanded. "Better than the opportunity to have their own lives and their own bodies? To not need to share a body with someone else and only get to half-live?"

"A lot of them don't _want_ to get their own body because they're happy where they are and they'll miss each other terribly if they're forced to separate," Cassie declared.

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Cassie, no one is forcing them not to spend time together. You'll find that many people have managed to form very fulfilling relationships without living in one another's head. If they are really this codependent then I don't think enabling them is a good idea and they can move in together for all I care! I just don't want them to be in the same head."

Cassie was quiet for a long moment. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, Jake, but I think that you're being a bigot."

"Am I?" I asked, surprised. I didn't really think I was but I was also cognizant that it didn't matter in the end because that accusation wasn't enough to change my mind.

"You want to see them persecuted because of what they are," Cassie accused. "That sounds like bigotry to me."

"I don't see how wanting them all to morph and then go live a long and healthy life, though preferably far away from me, is persecution," I replied.

"It's cultural genocide," Cassie said firmly.

I rolled my eyes again. "How can it possibly be genocide if we're not killing anyone and are, in fact, giving them a better life?"

"Because the Yeerk species will cease to exist," Cassie told me.

"You didn't seem to mind when it was the Taxxons," I pointed out.

"The Taxxons all chose that and the Yeerks haven't," Cassie explained.

"There are still Yeerks in other places, just not here. And again, don't use the word 'genocide' unless people are dying," I said sternly.

"It's different than before," Cassie claimed. "No one's being enslaved-"

"That we know of. You can't enforce it and who knows what's going on?" I interrupted yet again. I really should stop because it's quite rude but it's just so hard to listen to this.

"That's just paranoia talking," Cassie said dismissively. "This isn't parasitism anymore but a true symbiosis."

"That's where you're wrong, Cassie," I disagreed. "The Yeerks are still parasites because they need us to see and hear and communicate if they're too stubborn to gain their own bodies. Any frivolous 'perks' they could offer in return does not symbiotes make."

Cassie was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I really wish you weren't punishing all of the Yeerks and all of the people who want to coexist for Tom and Rachel."

I froze. "_What did you say?_"

Cassie looked horrified. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I think you did." I walked to the front door and opened it. "I think we're done here."

Cassie looked like she very much wanted to argue with me but she just nodded tightly. "No chance of changing your mind?"

"None whatsoever," I said honestly.

I watched her walk out the door and get into her car and drive away.

Then I went back upstairs and contemplated calling her.

Review Please!


	51. The Cycle Continues

The Cycle Continues

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Amy was a beautiful girl with long red hair and a Scottish accent. I didn't know her very well but I did know that she had a huge thing for me. Everyone knew, really, because Amy was the kind of person who didn't believe in keeping these things hidden and was always prepared to face the consequences of her actions.

Well, almost always. I knew that there was no way that she could ever possibly prepare herself for what would soon befall her.

The thing is, I'm not entirely sure why Amy likes me…or at least thinks she does. It's not like the Yeerk has managed to whittle my self-esteem down to the point where I don't understand why anyone would like me but I don't think that I've _ever_ actually spoken with her. The Yeerk talks to her all the time but the thought that anyone would like _him_…I just can't see it. Sure he's pretending to be me and he usually does at least an adequate job (he might do better if he cared more but frankly the 'Andalite bandits' have a better chance of actually being human than that happening) but _still_. The whole idea is just absurd and a little revolting.

But somehow Amy has not been put off. She came up to me one day after she and the Yeerk had been talking for a few weeks and announced her feelings for 'me' and asked if the Yeerk wanted to go out. The Yeerk would be perfectly happy if he never had to speak to another human being besides me ever again and so, naturally, hadn't jumped at the chance.

{What do you mean 'besides you'?} the Yeerk asked me, continuing to prove that he really couldn't grasp the concept of privacy or why people like it.

{The way I see it, the fact that you're pretending to be me to try to infest more people and enslave the planet with a minimum of hosts wasted means that you have to communicate with some humans. There is literally no reason why you have to communicate with me. Therefore, the fact that you insist on doing it – even when I'm not even talking to you – means that you must get some sort of satisfaction out of it,} I reasoned.

{I wouldn't call it 'satisfaction', exactly,} the Yeerk prevaricated. {And not just because I don't want to be in any way accused of having host sympathies either, so don't even think that!}

{I wasn't,} I said honestly.

{Maybe not,} the Yeerk conceded. {But I know you and you were _about_ to.}

Well…maybe.

{It's just…do you have any idea how _difficult_ it is to want to reply to something you hear and to not do it?} the Yeerk demanded.

…I cannot believe that I have just been asked that.

{Are you freaking serious? I can _never _reply to **anything **anybody says unless I'm talking to you or you decide to repeat my reaction verbatim,} I pointed out.

{So you do understand,} the Yeerk said, choosing – predictably – to ignore most of what I said. {I see no reason to put myself through the discomfort of wanting to say something but not being able to with _you_ since no one but the two of us will ever know. I drive myself crazy already having to censor myself with my superiors and with all of the humans.}

{Poor you.}

{Somehow I get the impression you're being less than sincere,} the Yeerk complained.

Amy wasn't one to take rejection easily and the Yeerk hadn't even been all that firm and certainly didn't say anything about not liking her. Instead, he had lured her in by telling her that he didn't really have time for a girlfriend right now because of all the time he was spending at the Sharing and that he couldn't possibly cut back on his hours there because everyone was counting on him to honor his commitment and they were doing _such_ good work.

I don't get the feeling that Amy really buys into all that wholesome crap that the Sharing spouts any more than I did but, just like I did, she came anyway. The pairing of guides to potential members is anything but random and so Amy was assigned to the Yeerk.

It's a little hard to tell since I've never actually interacted with her and most of the time the Yeerk interacted with her he was trying to get her to join the Sharing but I honestly think that I like Amy. She's smart and strong and fierce and she might have made it in this world if she had better taste in men.

As it is, her 'trial period' at the Sharing is coming to an end and all I can think about is what happened when _my_ trial period was up. Amy's going to have to make the same decision that I did. Of course, I never actually _did_ make my choice because I saw something I shouldn't have seen but that won't happen to Amy.

If nothing else, my infestation guaranteed that the people at the Sharing started locking their doors before the Visser demorphed or when discussing something sensitive.

I remember being on the other side of this. I think back too damn much being on the other side of this. I was jealous and hopeful and oh so very unaware. I always go over every little thing I could have said or done differently – most notably not knocking – and though it drives me crazy I can't help it and at least it annoys the Yeerk as well.

Amy's one day going to look back and rue the day she ever glanced my way the way I do Rose even though it wasn't her fault any more than this is mine. And one day Amy is going to find herself in this exact position and hate herself for not being able to stop what's about to happen.

One day and it's all because of what's happening right now.

Was this what Rose felt? Was she voluntary? I never have seen her at the Yeerk Pool so I still don't know. Did she care what was happening to me or was she too caught up in her own problems? Had she gotten so many people infested at that point that it had somehow lost its horror? I'm not sure I even want to know because I don't know which alternative is worse, Rose feeling the way I do right now or simply not caring for whatever reason.

I doubt I'll ever get a chance to apologize to Amy and let her know how much I hate this and I wonder if it would even make a difference to her. It'll be worse for her than it was for me, though, because at least I never agreed to it. And while Amy probably _will_ agree to become a full member, there's no way she'll continue to agree once they explain about the Yeerk. A lot of people try to back out at that point but it's too late by the, of course, and since they all willing strapped themselves in the infestation is easy to carry out regardless.

"I don't know," Amy said, biting her lip. "You said that the next initiation starts in twenty minutes? Why can't I just have some more time to think about it and go to the next initiation?"

"We were supposed to have five tonight but we already had someone back out because his wife went into labor so we're down one," the Yeerk explained.

Amy blinked. "Maybe I'm not seeing the problem here."

The problem, of course, was that five Yeerks were lined up to infest five humans and while they would only use four of them if they had to, they really wanted all five put into place. Not that _I_ would consider one less enslaved human to be a problem but they rather disagreed.

"It's just that we had the ceremony set up for five and have five of everything all printed up," the Yeerk lied. "It's not really that big of a deal but it would be great if we _did_ have five. I guess I'm being kind of OCD about this, huh?"

Amy's face softened. "No, of course not. It's just…I don't know. I don't like to make decisions without taking the time to think it through. And you know that I only really came to the Sharing in the first place because you said that you're always here and wouldn't have time to date me because of it."

"If you were a member of the Sharing, though, I'd have a lot of time to date you," the Yeerk said quickly. "We'd both spend a lot of time here…not that you'd have to spend the kind of time that I do, of course. I really like you, Amy, and would love it if you were to say yes."

"Well…" Amy trailed off but I could see that she was weakening. No, Amy, don't fall for it. This will ruin your life. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. After all, it's just a club, right? If I don't like it then I could just quit."

The only way to 'quit' the Sharing once you're in is to die and they do everything in their power to stop that from happening. Well, all but the Visser who is a help in that department surprisingly often whether you want out or not. Tragically, the Yeerk hasn't managed to get on his bad side or be anywhere near the Visser when someone else does.

The Yeerk smiled at her, inwardly rejoicing that all the time and effort he had spent into coaxing her to join was paying off.

{I really don't know _what_ Visser One was going on about when she said that this way was _easier_,} he said disgustedly. {It really makes you wonder if there's anything to Visser Three's insistence that she's a human-loving fool.}

"Of course you can," he said warmly albeit falsely. "So…will you do it?"

Amy laughed and shook her head. "All right, all right. I'll join your silly little club. For you."

I really wish she hadn't said that. I feel bad enough as it is.

"It's not 'silly'," the Yeerk protested, pretending to be wounded.

She laughed again. "Note to self: do not refer to the silly club as 'silly.' Got it. Now where do I go?"

The Yeerk pointed. "Just head back there. The other four should be there so you can just wait with them until they call you in."

Amy frowned. "I thought you said it was some sort of a ceremony."

Yes, that's it, Amy. Question the things that don't quite add up.

{So I did,} the Yeerk said vaguely, thinking. Out loud, he said, "Yes but first they want to talk to you to make sure that you really want to join and understand that we're trying to set a positive example for the community and don't intend to do anything to jeopardize that."

Amy made a face. "That makes sense. It's a little strict but I understand and it's not like I go out of my way to set a bad example anyway."

Then Amy walked away and the Yeerk went to go play some pool while we waited for Amy to reemerge, newly infested, and for this assignment to completed.

I could feel the impatience rolling off of the Yeerk but I was having rather the opposite reaction. I was dreading the moment when she said something that proved beyond a doubt that she had been taken and was as trapped as I was. I hoped that moment would never come but I couldn't stop time any more than the Yeerk could speed it up.

The first four new Controllers came back calmly and roughly ten minutes apart from each other. Then, less than two minutes after the fourth new Controller came back, Amy reappeared.

The Yeerk frowned reflexively upon seeing her. {That wasn't enough time.}

Amy looked a little disturbed and marched determinedly towards the exit. That gave me hope, as impossible as I knew that hope was.

"Hey, Amy!" the Yeerk called out.

Amy's head whipped around and she changed her destination. "Tom, I know that I said that I'd join the Sharing but…Well, that's just not going to happen."

{Damn!} the Yeerk swore.

{Thank God,} I said. I didn't know how it had happened but this girl had made the right choice.

The Yeerk's frown deepened. "Well I can't say I'm not disappointed. What changed your mind?"

"Well, Linda came out of the room and then they asked me to come in. I took one look in that room, saw that the empty chair had restraints on it, and hightailed it out of there," Amy explained. "I don't know what those restraints are for and frankly I don't _want_ to know. I don't even know if they were going to be used. I just know that after what happened at my best friend's birthday party…" She shuddered. "I said never again and I meant it. So I'm sorry but the answer is no."

This was good, this was very good. It wasn't that Amy had seen anything that she shouldn't have so they would have no reason to track her down and forcibly infest her later.

"I understand," the Yeerk said, attempting to sound in any way understanding. "Well, thanks for going that far. It means a lot."

Amy kissed my cheek. "You're a sweet guy, Tom. I'm really sorry that you don't have time for anything right now. Call me if your schedule ever clears up."

With that, she turned and walked away out into the sunlight.

The Yeerk watched her go for awhile before someone called my name from behind me.

Rose was standinig there with an average-looking girl with shiny black hair.

"Tom, this is Gwen," Rose introduced. "I'm assigning you to be her guide."

In the end, it doesn't even matter. Amy might have gotten away but the cycle continues forever.

Review Please!


	52. Mission Accomplished

Mission Accomplished

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_Let's take a vote," Rachel said. _

"_I vote we live long enough to get driver's licenses," Marco said_.

_-Animorphs #1. _

Marco burst into Cassie's barn one day triumphantly holding a little card in his hand. "This is the greatest day of my life."

Rachel tossed her hair behind her shoulders. "What, did you finally convince some poor unsuspecting airhead of going out with you? Cassie, you should do something."

"Me?" Cassie asked, looking surprised to be dragged into this. "Why is this in any way my responsibility?"

The three of us had been working on homework and, shockingly, that kind of thing bored Tobias and Ax easily so they weren't there. Ax might not have been so bored if we let him tell us everything he knew about the subjects he'd read about (too damn much), ask us every little detail that we usually didn't know about the things he hadn't, and 'correct' our right answers because human science got them wrong. Needless to say, it was probably for the best he wasn't there.

"Airheads are people, too, and people are animals which means that it's your job to protect them," Rachel explained.

Cassie just shook her head. "You know what, Rachel? How about I delegate?"

"Good idea," Rachel replied. "Jake, you're up."

"Right, first order of business is coming up with a name," I said dryly. "I was thinking People for the Ethical Treatment of Airheads but PETA's taking. You'll have to get back to me."

"You people are useless," Rachel said disgustedly.

Marco looked up from stroking his card long enough to say, "I don't have a date, Rachel. Yet. Although with this, it's really only a matter of time."

"Jake," Rachel said sweetly, "brainstorm faster."

"I'm working on it," I assured her lazily.

Marco was looking expectantly at me.

"Why is this the greatest day of your life, Marco?" I asked obligingly.

Marco beamed. "So glad that you asked, Jake. As it happens, as of…" he trailed off, glancing at his watch. "Thirty-seven minutes ago I am the proud owner of one California-issued drivers license!"

Rachel started. "Oh dear God…"

"The roads aren't safe anymore," I agreed.

"My dad saw a car commercial that reminded him of what Marco did to his truck and I _swear_ that he was tearing up," Cassie added.

Marco glared at us. "You guys are the worst friends ever."

"I think we could be a lot worse," Rachel argued.

"How?" Marco challenged.

"Well, we could be the kind of friends that talk you into joining the Sharing," Rachel pointed out.

"Yeah, but-" Marco cut himself off and sighed. "You're right. But you're still terrible friends. How about a little congratulations here?"

"Congratulations," I said belatedly.

"_Pretend_ you mean it," Marco instructed.

"Congratulations, Marco. This is a really big thing," Cassie said, managing to sound almost sincere.

"Oh, come on, what's the deal?" Marco complained. "When you three got _your_ licenses everyone was thrilled for you! I know that _I_ was thrilled for you even as I secretly resented you for getting it before I did."

"Well yeah, but…" I hesitated. "Rachel? You want to take this one?"

"Gladly," Rachel said, nodding. "Marco, you're a terrible driver and we feel less safe living in a world where you have a license. It's also costing us a great deal of faith in humanity to think that someone actually passed you."

"We live in a world with Yeerks," Marco said flatly.

"So don't you agree that we really don't need to have any more worries?" Rachel asked logically.

"Me being able to drive is _not_ a worry!" Marco protested.

I held my hand up and placed my thumb and forefinger very close together. "It's a little bit of a worry."

"You also didn't manage to get your license until three months after I got it and my birthday and Jake's come after yours," Cassie pointed out.

"I was busy!" Marco insisted.

"We're all busy," I reminded him. "We're usually all busy at the same time, too. And yet somehow, we all found the time."

"Okay, so I could do better with time management," Marco said shrugging. "That still doesn't mean that I'm a bad driver."

"No, but what you did to my dad's car might," Cassie told him.

Marco made a face. "Oh, come on, Cassie! We were getting chased by a giant tornado monster from hell!"

Cassie titled her head. "I thought that was Saturn."

"Oh, what's the difference?" Marco asked flippantly.

"I'm not even going to touch that one," Rachel said, holding her hands up as if to shield her from the offending question.

"Well how about this one?" Marco demanded. "If you guys thinks I'm such a horrible driver then why do you always have me drive during the missions? Especially after you guys all got licenses?"

We all looked at each other blankly. It was a damn good question. The truth was that at first Marco and I were the only ones who had so much as played a driving game and Marco was better than I was. Not that that really translated well into actual driving, as it turned out. Over the years, we just sort of got used to him being the driver even if he wasn't very good at it.

"Your gorilla morph has a far better chance of actually driving something than any of our morphs," I came up with finally. "And we have to drive in morph or we might get recognized or at least ruin the illusion that we're Andalites."

Rachel and Cassie nodded enthusiastically now that we had an excuse to cling to.

Marco looked unimpressed. "Yeah, you guys can go acquire a gorilla morph anytime you want to. It's not like there's some sort of limit on how many morphs you can have."

"That we know of," Cassie pointed out.

"True," Marco conceded. "And knowing our luck we'll find out at the worst possible moment. But you'd think Ax would have mentioned it."

"Since nobody on the Andalite home world apparently _ever_ morphs," I said, thinking of all those Andalites above Leera who had needlessly died because not a one of them had a sufficiently small morph, "how would they really know?"

"Still, you'd think Visser Three would know," Rachel remarked. "We've never seen him morph the same thing twice."

"Why would he feel the need to share that information, even if he did find a limit?" Marco asked.

Cassie shrugged. "To let us know that our wonderful Andalite technology has its limits?"

"And besides, Marco, even without a morphing limit we still can't possibly go and acquire a gorilla," Rachel claimed.

Marco raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Because…?"

"That would require us to actually prepare for things ahead of time," Rachel responded, sounding perfectly serious. "And after all this time I think it's clear that we don't believe in that."

"Hey!" I objected.

"Oh, it's not your fault," Rachel assured me. "None of us do. That's why we've been stranded in the arctic with no cold-weather morph, stranded in the ocean with no salt-water morph, went to the Yeerk Pool and Cassie only had a horse and Tobias a cat and a hawk, stranded at the-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I hastily cut her off. "Do you guys think we should, you know, acquire morphs in advance so these kinds of things don't keep happening to us?"

Marco shrugged. "It's kind of a pain to hit the Gardens and, knowing our luck, these kinds of things would _still_ happen to us."

"But they might happen less often," I pointed out.

"I wouldn't count on it," Marco disagreed.

"In my defense," Cassie spoke up, "if I hadn't been kidnapped and dragged to the Yeerk Pool that one time I would have acquired a wolf or something."

"Sure you would have," Marco said, clearly not believing her.

"I would have! A horse was really not the best choice there. I was kind of useless for anything but trampling people and riding," Cassie replied.

"Hey, I just remembered something!" Rachel said, snapping her fingers. "Isn't this your _third_ time taking the driving exam?"

Marco shot me a dirty look. "Traitor," he muttered.

I stared back unrepentantly. "What? It was hilarious."

"I have to agree with Jake here," Cassie told him.

"Those two times weren't my fault!" Marco exclaimed.

"I would really like to see how you figure _that_ one," Rachel said, amused.

"The first time my permit expired before I finished the fifty hours and so I couldn't practice anymore. I'm _lucky_ that that time all I failed because of was my inability to back up around a corner," Marco announced.

"And that's not your fault because…?" I prompted.

Marco made a face. "Well, okay, maybe the fact I let my permit expire was sort of my fault. But I've been busy!"

"If you didn't renew your permit and hadn't gotten your fifty hours, how could you get your license?" Cassie inquired.

"My dad doesn't read my driving log when he signs off on it," Marco explained.

"Marco," Cassie said disapprovingly.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I passed!"

"Eventually," Rachel muttered.

"Why is backing up around a corner even on the damn test?" Marco demanded. "When has anybody in the history of ever needed to back up around a corner?"

"Um…U-Turns, maybe?" I guessed. "I know that I haven't."

"Me either," Rachel admitted.

"Not me," Cassie said.

"Thank you," Marco said, sounding satisfied.

"But what about your other failure?" Rachel asked, smirking.

Marco closed his eyes. "That driving instructor was such a bitch!"

"What happened?" Cassie asked curiously.

"Okay, so there I was practically hyperventilating trying to do everything perfectly," Marco revealed. "I had practiced backing up around a corner until I could – and did – do it with my eyes closed."

"That's safe," I deadpanned.

"Not during the test," Marco clarified as if that made it any better. "And then when it was over she turned to me and said that I would have passed with flying colors except that when I was leaving the DMV, my very first stoplight caused me to fail. Not even thirty seconds into the test she failed me and then _still _made me take the damn thing. I hate her."

"Why did you fail?" I prompted him.

Marco muttered something unintelligible.

"We don't speak gibberish, Marco," Rachel said helpfully.

Marco rolled his eyes. "I _said_ 'I turned right on red when another car was barely visible in the distance.'"

"That doesn't seem like a good reason to fail someone," Cassie said, frowning.

"That's what I said. Apparently I was being unsafe. My third time, I sat there at the stoplight even though no one was coming for what must have been five minutes just to make sure not to give the guy an excuse to fail me," Marco said grimly. "Besides, it really didn't matter if I'd passed that time or not because no one was able to get a license by the time I got back from my second attempt because one of the other people taking the test had driven their car into one of those poles with the electricity. Whateverthose are called."

"See?" Cassie said encouragingly. "It could have been much worse."

"Well, I'm not sure about _much_," I replied. "You're right, though, that it definitely could have been worse."

"Mitigating circumstances or not, the fact you failed three times is still significant," Rachel declared.

Marco appeared not to hear her. "And thus, this is the greatest day of my life. I really never thought that this moment would come, you know?"

"Neither did we," I assured him. "Or at least, we hoped that it wouldn't."

"Do you guys remember back before we even agreed to do any of this?" Marco asked suddenly.

None of us had to ask what 'this' was.

"We were voting on if we should join the Animorphs or not – but that was before I came up with the name – and my vote was to live long enough to get our drivers' licenses. And folks, that day is today," Marco said proudly.

"Huh," I said. I couldn't really remember that but evidently it had really been a priority for Marco. Not enough of a priority to just do the fifty hours but a priority nevertheless. "Good for us."

"Can you believe we've been at this for three years?" Cassie said thoughtfully. "It doesn't feel like it's been that long."

"It feels like it's been forever," Rachel said, offering a differing opinion.

"Now I can die fulfilled," Marco said dramatically, kissing his license. He glanced suspiciously at me. "Not that that gives you license to get me killed!"

"What?" I demanded. "Seriously, you guys have no faith in me."

Review Please!


	53. Faking Grief

Faking Grief

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I was sitting at home pointedly spending time with my family when the call came. I had Rachel and Cassie with their families as well, just in case. Strictly speaking, I highly doubt that we _needed_ to provide any sort of alibi. Then again, we still sort of tried to avoid publicly hanging out too much even though I've come to realize that nothing strikes _anyone_ (Controller or otherwise) as odd about teenagers and cliques. Being too paranoid is fine, though, and the day may come – may have already come – when something we thought was just unnecessary paranoia ended up saving our lives.

We were playing Candy Land. Even Tom was playing because he got home while we were setting up and he made the same mistake that we did of thinking that it would just be a quick game. None of us had played since I was, like, six and so we had no idea what to expect. At first, it seemed like it would be over quickly…and then we started landing on the wrong spaces or drawing the wrong card and getting sent back near the beginning.

"I'll get it," my mom said when the phone started to ring.

My dad absently nodded as he moved his piece forward two squares.

"It's like this game is possessed or something and hell-bent on keeping us here at this table forever," Tom marveled, shaking his head and looking very much like he'd wished he'd never started playing.

"Hello?" my mom answered the phone. "Nora? Is something wrong?"

I forced myself to look as happy and carefree as I could. I wasn't so good at _actually_ being either and wasn't even going to try for innocent but hopefully I could still put on a convincing act. It was the next part that would be even more important, though. I tried not to listen to the conversation.

"You could always just walk away, Tom," I suggested slyly.

Tom laughed. "And leave you to win? Not on your life, Midget."

Don't call me that, Yeerk.

"Boys, this squabbling is really pointless," my dad told us seriously. "After all, you're both going to lose to _me _so it doesn't really matter when or how the losing takes place."

"What about Mom?" I asked him.

"Your mother will soon forfeit if that call holds her up for much longer," my dad said loudly.

Mom didn't seem to hear him. "Yes, yes, I absolutely understand. I can't even begin to…I am so sorry. Please let me know if there's anything I can do…I'll pray for you and for them…It's really the least that I can do…Alright, goodbye." She hung up the phone and turned to face us. There were tears in her eyes.

Tom, uncomfortable as ever with other people's distress, went for a joke. "So I guess this means you're going to pass."

"Pass," she repeated, her face crumbling. Pass. Pass on. She gestured to me. "Jake, honey, come here."

I started to stand.

She shook her head. "No, never mind. You should be sitting." She dropped bonelessly into the chair next to mine and gripped my hand tightly.

"Jean, what's going on?" my dad asked, alarmed. "What did Nora want?"

For a moment, she couldn't force the words out.

I frowned, trying to appear both concerned and confused. "Mom, you're really scaring me. Whatever it is can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

"It can," my mom said grimly. She briefly closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "Marco…and his father. They're…they're…"

"Are they hurt?" I demanded, my voice much higher than it normally was.

"Dead," my mom whispered.

It wasn't true. I knew that it wasn't. I had seen Marco earlier today when we had planned this whole charade.

It still hurt to hear and one day it may even be true.

I tried to pull my hand away but she wouldn't let it go.

"Dead?" Tom repeated dumbly. I glanced over at him. He _looked_ shocked and horrified but he had to have known in advance. An 'Andalite Bandit' making off with one of the humans who had discovered Z-Space in mid-infestation? And the father of his host's best friend to boot? Along with rather sloppy and implausible damage control? Oh yeah, he knew.

I couldn't read the expression on my father's face but he was gripping the table so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

"Wh-what happened?" I asked, utterly lost. My voice was shaking a little as well.

"There was some kind of freak attack," my mom told me hollowly. "Some gunmen burst into their house and shot the two up. Nora said…Nora said that you couldn't recognize the bodies. She wasn't home at the time and none of the neighbors saw anything so we really don't know what happened or why. They don't even know for sure if it was more than one attacker. The police are looking into it, though."

"A violent murder of a father and son in a nice suburb?" my dad asked grimly. "You can bet they'll look into it."

The part about the neighbors, at least, was either true or they were all Controllers. It was rather careless of the Yeerks to have Nora chatting pleasantly with cops in the middle of her driveway in broad daylight when they would have no other reason to be there than her husband and stepson's brutal murder. But then, when you can cover your mistakes with such ridiculous and extreme lengths as the ones they turned to to shut Marco's dad up or even just plain old infestation, I suppose you really don't need to worry very much about not being suspicious.

Must be nice.

We were _extremely_ lucky that the Yeerks jumped straight to 'suspicious execution' instead of another infestation attempt on Marco's dad or (if they were worried about our intervention again) at least Marco to see if he knew anything about our motives. The fact we had apparently let Marco's dad go and get ready to flee the country implied we weren't interested in his continued well-being, though.

We did have a plan for an infestation attempt in the form of 'Marco's dad' grabbing a gun and shooting at them but it was much riskier. The Chee would have to make sure to miss due to their pacifism (but not miss by too much to not be believable) for one thing and that still didn't guarantee that they'd be killed.

Our back-up plan for that was attacking the gunmen and having 'Marco' and his 'dad' killed in the escape attempt but…yeah, it was much better that the Yeerks were feeling so trigger- happy.

Poor Nora, stuck outside while she knew – or thought she knew – the horror taking place inside. We were all uncomfortable about leaving her to them but what could we do? Why would Andalites care?

When he got back from the scene of his 'death', Marco asked me if I was mad at him for blowing his cover and being forced to resort to such drastic measures to fix things. I was, a little, but I could never _really_ be mad at someone for not sitting and watching someone they loved get infested. Hell, if I were watching Tom get re-infested, for whatever reason, I can't promise I'd do nothing. So really, it's more the situation than Marco himself.

I realized that my family members were all starting intently at me, still waiting for my reaction. That was okay, though. Getting lost in my thoughts was an appropriate reaction to this.

"No…" I murmured weakly. "No, no, no!"

I pulled again and successfully freed my hand. I stood up quickly.

"Jake, I know it' shard, baby, but…" My mom trailed off, unable to offer me any platitudes on how everything would be alright. I was grateful because I knew that it wouldn't be and Marco's sacrifice was only the beginning. "We're here for you."

"I-I've got to go," I said vaguely and turned away.

"Jake, I don't want you going out in this state," my dad said worriedly.

"I'm only going upstairs," I promised.

"We'll be upstairs later to check on you," my dad replied.

I didn't answer and just trudged upstairs to my room. I threw myself on my bed and waited.

"I'm not sure if anyone _really_ knows how they should grieve but if I were a normal person or even if I wasn't but Marco was really dead, I wouldn't have to worry (except about not being obviously angry about the Controllers) because however I reacted would be genuine grief. I'm glad that he's not – to say the least – but it does complicate things as now I have to pretend and hope no one sees through my act and guesses that Marco is somehow alive or that I know something.

I don't really want to pretend to be sad for a family that really is devastated by our supposed loss because if makes me feel like I'm a terrible person but I could use the practice. Everyone and their mothers will be watching me for my reaction to this and wanting to talk about it or awkwardly avoiding the gorilla in the room. I'll probably have to see the school guidance councilor and Mom and Dad might even take me back to that psychiatrist.

I really hope that they don't.

My mother comes up first. She doesn't say anything, just sits on my bed next to me and starts stroking my hair. It's easy and comforting because her silence means that I don't have to say anything either and it's not like a little comfort is unappreciated these days. I almost fall asleep while she's sitting right there but they'll be time for that later. Better let them try to be there for me first and then I can sleep.

After she leaves, there's maybe ten minutes before my father comes in. He gives me a hug and promises that they're going to catch the people who did this. That he knows that nothing will ever bring Marco back but that they're all here for me and that I'll get through it. As I feared, he brings up Dr. Greyfield but says that it's entirely my choice whether I want to go back there. That's something, at least.

Then, about ten minutes after Dad leaves, Tom comes in.

I turn around to look at him and even sit up because it's getting more and more impossible to be vulnerable in front of him. He stands there awkwardly in the doorway and just stares at me for a moment.

"I really don't know what to say here, Jake," he admitted finally. "I can't promise you that everything's going to be fine because it's not. Your best friend is dead."

I wince at that.

"There's no point beating around the bush because it's true," he says bluntly. "I never would have thought that something like this would have happened, not here, but it did. But you know what, Jake? You're going to survive this and you're going to be stronger for it. I know you're going to be mourning but just make sure that you don't get so caught up in what you lost that you forget about what you still have."

I considered the words. It didn't sugar-coat things at all, of course, and I was glad for that. I thought it was good advice, too. I wondered for a moment who the words came from. The Yeerk wasn't likely to care but they reminded me of the Yeerk's almost callous pragmatism when it came to war back during that discussion we had at Grandpa G's house right before the dock incident. Despite the fact that I was holding back the fact that I had any idea what I was talking about and we both continued to pretend that the Yeerks didn't exist, I consider it to be the only honest conversation we've ever had.

I wouldn't put it past the Yeerk to just take the easy way out and not have to bother coming up with any advice of his own by parroting my brother's thoughts, either. It didn't sound very much like pre-war Tom but then things had changed a great deal in that time. I guess I just didn't think that they had changed _that_ much. But then, how could they _not_?

"I'll try," I said quietly.

Looking satisfied, Tom left.

They'll probably leave me alone for awhile and give me a chance to get a better handle on things. I might even get to take a nap and sleep is becoming a more valuable commodity by the day.

And then tomorrow I'll fly to the valley of the free Hork-Bajir and tell Marco all about his death.

Ten to one he insists on attending his own funeral.

Review Please!


	54. Helpless

Helpless

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_And that wasn't the worst of it. Worse was knowing that my brother Tom, my true brother, had been trapped inside his own mind, trapped watching as the killers prepared to murder his family. Helpless, watching, unable to open his own mouth to shout a warning. _

_-Animorphs #31. _

I don't think that I ever have been in a worse position in my entire life.

Only…that's not right. It's not really me that this has anything to do with, even though none of it would have happened had I made better life choices.

It's selfish and stupid to be thinking of that right now, to be looking back on all the decisions that I made that led me to this and imaging all of the ways that things could have been different, _should _have been different.

It's also useless but I can't think of anything that wouldn't be right now.

My father is going to die and it's going to be because of me.

It's the Yeerk's fault, of course, but I was the one who brought him into our lives in the first place. It wasn't intentional – would never have been intentional – but that won't make it any better when I'm standing over his dead body and the Yeerk secretly gloats even as he pretends to mourn. Jake and my mom will have no idea and that will make it safer for them but this whole incident is proving that it will never _really_ be safe for them. Even their **lives** aren't secure anymore, never mind their minds.

I wish that Jake hadn't asked how long our father expected us to be gone. Somehow, neither the Yeerk nor I had thought to wonder and my father hadn't told us so while the Yeerk was deeply against the trip back then, it wasn't nearly as bad and no one was in any real danger.

I'm not naïve and I know that even if Jake hadn't said anything then sooner or later the Yeerk would have found out. Dad wouldn't have seen any reason not to casually slip the Yeerk's death sentence into a conversation about packing or school or whatever. Still, a little more time without having to watch in paralyzed terror would have been appreciated.

The Yeerk's first plan was simple. Appearances might have dictated that we go to the funeral (the Yeerk was willing to compromise and _go_ at this point as long as he would survive the encounter) but they didn't demand that we stay there all four days. Just two days, possibly flying would still be fine. And if Dad got 'caught up at work' then even that might not have to happen.

Since my _real_ dad would clearly never go for that they tried to infest him. Some sort of miracle in the form of juvenile delinquents – will wonders never cease? They seem like Sharing bait so I hope they stay away – trashed my dad's car as well as every car in the parking lot and so my dad left literally seconds before it would have been too late to let him go.

I don't know why the Yeerk decided that one failed attempt means a drive-by shooting in broad daylight was the next logical solution. I want to be relieved that infestation is not in my father's future but the fact that he clearly won't be having a future is kind of stopping me.

The Yeerk's on the phone with Chapman right now. This is like every scary movie I've ever watched where I wanted to shout out "Look behind you!" or "Don't go in there!" except a million times worse, maybe more, and the people around me are just as unable to hear me as the characters in those films.

"We're about two minutes away from your house," Chapman informed us. "Do you think you can get him outside? I don't want to be parked outside for longer than I need to be. This is risky enough as it is."

"Perfect timing. He's out front alone. Go for it," the Yeerk said approvingly. "I'm going to watch."

He hung up the phone and left the kitchen.

{Going outside might be too obvious and I don't want to give him a reason to come over to me,} the Yeerk mused. {I might have to give a statement, too. No, the living room should be fine.}

Accordingly, he stood there gazing out at my father with the perfect view of his impending death.

{Don't do this,} I begged him. It was futile, I know, but what good is pride in the face of such unimaginable horror? Somehow, despite everything I've seen and everything the Yeerk has done, I had never quite thought that this day would come. {Please. You don't need to…you can find another way…run away or something. Fake my death and go into outer space.}

{It's a little late to call them off,} the Yeerk said distractedly, watching the car come around the corner and slow as it made its way towards our house.

My father was outside merrily watering the grass, completely incognizant of the very real, very growing danger that he was in right now. It was hard to tell because he was standing quite a few feet away from me and his back was turned but I thought he looked peaceful. He would probably never even know until it was too late, never have any idea of the role that I had played in his demise. Never have to face the guilt or never having noticed. I usually tell myself that it's not their fault that they don't know and that it's for the best besides but sometimes, in my less than charitable moods…I'm not feeling any of that right now.

I wondered what it will look like when he's dead. I've never seen anyone shot to death. I've seen people get disintegrated by Dracon Beam but that's really not the same thing at all. I've seen a lot of stabbings and decapitations but no plain old human gunshot deaths. I've seen some on TV, of course, and I'm really not looking to compare them. The TV ones seem quick, though. Quick and painful if it doesn't hit the right spot and kill immediately.

There's no doubt that whoever the gunman is will make sure to fire several rounds to be absolutely sure to kill him.

At least Mom's gone so she's not in any danger during any of this. I can only imagine what the news will do to her, delivered right in the middle of her grief about her grandfather. I can only hope that Jake doesn't see anything and doesn't blame himself for this. That maybe the Yeerk will condescend to pretending to be there for him. He's about to lose his father, after all. So am I but I'm older and I understand in a way that he never could.

There's a movement out of the corner of my eye. The Yeerk automatically darts my eyes in its direction and I see Jake limping towards my father.

This is the part where my heart should stop, where I should be unable to breathe. Well, I can't breathe any more than I normally can but the Yeerk isn't particularly horrified by this new development and so my biological functions remain normal.

{Bad timing,} the Yeerk mused indifferently. My brother is going to die and he can barely bother to remark on it.

I want to hit something. I want to smash through the glass and run out there and take the bullet for them. I want to shout out that it's going to happen, even if there's no way that they can outrun the gun. I want to do something, _anything_ rather than just watching powerlessly.

The Yeerk, the sick bastard, is actually smiling.

Jake says something to our father and then takes the hose. He shoos my father back inside. It's almost like he knows. He can't, of course, but he's doing everything that I wish that I could do. It won't be enough, though.

Maybe if Dad was hurrying but he still is completely unaware that anything is amiss. The car inches closer by the second and Jake is as oblivious as Dad is because he's just watching our father slowly walk back to the house.

The car window is going down and even if Jake's not paying attention he can't be allowed to live because he might see something and he's almost inevitably going to turn towards the sound of gunfire and seal his fate.

This isn't…I can't even…

One was bad enough. One was more than I could handle. But while my father's death would at least serve a purpose, terrible though that purpose was, Jake's death would just be collateral damage. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he was so very young. Only fourteen and already his life was over. He just didn't know it yet. He might have time to realize it before he dies. I hope he doesn't. It just seems crueler to have that time to contemplate. And, like our father, he won't even know why.

I think they'll probably shoot Dad first since he's their target. Jake will have to watch him die before it's his turn. It wouldn't be any better if Dad had had to watch Jake die.

{NO!}

I'll have to watch them both die.

{DAD!}

It will be a victory for the Yeerk.

How can I possibly face Mom after this?

{JAKE!}

Jake, still watching dad, wasn't paying attention and the hose…

{WATCH OUT!}

The hose jerked.

It hit the side of the car.

The gunman's arm jerked.

The door shut safely behind Dad.

Sure, the gunman could always take another shot but what was the point? While killing Jake could conceivably keep us in town, it wasn't a guarantee and he wasn't the target. They could try again later. They _would_ try again later. There was no way that this lucky streak could continue but I could try to enjoy it while it lasted.

I feel an immense wave of gratitude towards Jake. Jake who had no idea what he was doing or what he had prevented but who had saved our family nonetheless. I'm proud of him.

Since our goals are truly incompatible (always but especially now), I can feel wave after wave of immense fury rolling off of the Yeerk. He didn't care when it looked like Jake would have to die and right now I think that he would sincerely like to see Jake shot to pieces right in front of him.

Jake glanced our way and I really wonder what he's seeing. The Yeerk has my features twisted in hatred. How can Jake possibly understand that? Does he think I'm mad at him? Will he ask the Yeerk about it? What will he say to explain it? Will he even bother?

I'm going to have to face the fact that Jake, though not the target, is in danger, too. And maybe Mom and my grandparents if the Yeerk can't stop the trip in time.

I don't want the Yeerk to succeed in killing or infesting my father. They're both bad situations and I can't say that I would _prefer_ one over the other. But I don't want the Yeerk to fail for so long that he puts everyone else in danger, too.

This is a bad situation. The immediate danger has passed but that's only going to increase the Yeerk's desperation and his ruthlessness.

{That interfering…} the Yeerk muttered darkly. {Again, I'm thwarted. How very…unfortunate. But it doesn't matter. I'm not about to give this up.}

The worst part was that I knew better than to doubt him.

I should have been shuddering.

I wasn't.

Review Please!


	55. The Rat

The Rat

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Jake sighed. "Okay, then. I'll see David-slash-Saddler this evening. I'll bring him a rat to acquire." _

"_You're going to bring him a rat at the hospital?" Cassie asked. _

"_No, he and his family are at my house," Jake said. "Nothing's wrong with him, so the hospital let him go. He's actually staying in my room. His so-called parents have the guest room, and I'm on the couch." _

_-Animorphs #22. _

David has got to go.

Every time I look at him, that's all I can think and it has been all I could think since that night David attempted to kill me and Tobias.

Now, though, it feels a lot more pressing.

David is still a threat to us (possibly our most dangerous threat since not only can he morph like we can but he knows who we are and how to find us and can sell us out to the Yeerks at any moment) and still needs to be somehow neutralized but now it's getting worse.

There's really no going back from the things that David has done, I think. Granted, David has not _actually_ killed any of us but it wasn't from lack of trying and he certainly thinks he has. He also hates us – or hates Marco and Rachel – and is completely dismissive of Ax and Tobias for not being 'human' enough for him. He actually likes Cassie and I think I'm closer to the hate category than anything else.

David promised that he would never kill a human and it's why Marco was merely tied up but what about my cousin Saddler? Even if he seemed unlikely to survive, David either killed him outright or prevented hospital personnel from saving his life. Who even knows what he did with the body?

And if that weren't enough, now he's sitting around the kitchen table with _my_ family pretending that he's their miracle. One of these days he's going to break their hearts far worse than they would have been broken without his interference and it is sickening.

Tom's off at a Sharing meeting, Justin keeps zoning out, and Brooke is playing with Forrest (at least it keeps him quiet) but my parents and Uncle George and Aunt Ellen are hanging onto every word that David says.

"You have no idea how glad I am to get out of that hospital!" David exclaimed. "I mean, no offense to the doctors or nurses there because they _did_ save my life but they're acting like I'm some sort of scientific curiosity and it was getting a little claustrophobic."

"I don't know what they did or how but I'm just glad that it happened," Uncle George said.

"You're really not feeling any side-effects or lingering pain from the crash?" Aunt Ellen asked, fascinated.

David shook his head and grinned at her. "Nope. I'm feeling back to 100%."

"Wow, Saddler," I couldn't help but say. I almost said 'David' but caught myself just in time. There are no Controllers here right now but why risk it? And how to explain it? "It's almost like you were never in that accident at all."

David's grin became a smirk. "Isn't it? It's kind of cool that I get to be a miracle and all. I wish that everyone was as lucky as we are. Don't you wish that, Jake?"

It's what I get for drawing David's attention to me, it really is. I hoped that the upturn of my lips looked more like a smile than the grimace it felt like.

"Absolutely," I lied.

"I can't _wait_ to get you home!" Aunt Ellen exclaimed. She turned to my parents. "Not that we're not grateful for you hospitality or anything, it's just…"

"You want to be able to start to put this whole mess behind you and return to normal," my mom supplied. "I get that, believe me, I do."

"And I'm sure you're eager to get back to your own rooms instead of having to share," my dad added.

"Oh, I don't know," David said slyly. "I kind of liking kicking Cousin Jake out of his room."

"Oh, I bet you do," I muttered.

"Boys," Uncle George said reprovingly. "Can't you get along for five minutes?"

"I guess it is a sign that everything's going back to normal," my dad remarked.

"You're absolutely right, Dad," David said, sounding contrite. "I'm sorry. And I'm sorry to you, too, Jake. I guess old habits are hard to break."

Uncle George softened immediately. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just glad that you're feeling better is all."

"Me, too," I claimed. "D-Saddler, do you think I could talk to you after dinner? It's kind of important but I'd like it to just stay between us." Maybe I should just stop using any name for him to avoid slip-ups or near slip-ups like that one. It might help if I could start thinking of him as Saddler but that's really beyond me.

"Oooh. Family secrets," David said semi-mockingly. Well, I thought it was quite mocking but I doubt anyone else would have picked up on it. He made a big show of finishing off what was on his plate. "Well, I'm done now." He stood up. "Shall we?"

I glance down at my own plate which was still half-full. But then, I didn't really have much of an appetite and I rather wanted to minimize the time that David spent around my relatives, even with me around to supervise.

I stood up as well. "Now's good, yeah."

"Jake, what about the rest of your dinner?" my mom demanded.

I shrugged. "Sorry, Mom. I'm just not hungry."

"Well at least take your plate to the sink," she instructed.

David looked sheepish. "Oh, I should probably do that as well."

"You're a guest," my mom told him. "But Jake should know better."

Oh, he was so enjoying this. I reached for my plate but Dad got there first and, as he usually did, scooped my leftovers onto his own plate before handing it back to me.

Once both plates were safely in the sink, I led the way out to the garage.

"What's wrong with talking in your room?" David asked curiously.

"Two reasons," I replied. "One, even though Tom's not home now I might miss hearing him return and even if he doesn't come back someone else might still overhear us. You can't hear what's being said in the garage when you're in the house or vice versa with the door closed. Also, I'm keeping _this_ in the garage so as not to freak anybody out." I bent down and picked up a small cage that Cassie had given me. A little white rat was inside of it.

David eyed the cage critically. "What's this supposed to be? Some sort of a message? Because I've got to tell you, cousin, that it's not very subtle and I think it's a little too fourth grade anyway."

"I'm not your cousin," I snapped. I'd been wanting to say those words since the hospital but I hadn't been able to because of other witnesses.

David smirked again. "Try telling that to those lovely people in there. You have a nice family, Jake. Too bad you don't deserve them."

I refused to let those words hit their intended target. This was important and I wasn't about to show any weakness in front of David. Well, any weakness that wasn't necessary for our plan of deceiving him and thus any weakness that was real. I don't have any problem with looking bad in front of other people if it was all just a ploy.

"We've been thinking about your…offer," I said slowly.

David schooled Saddler's features into a look of polite interest. Watching him, it was almost like he was a Yeerk controlling Saddler instead of a human morphing him. Once David stopped the pretence I was never going to see my cousin's face again. "Oh? Do tell."

I said nothing, allowing a conflicted look to appear on my face.

"Well? Go on," David ordered.

"We're going to give you what you want," I said heavily.

"I thought you might see it my way," David said, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction.

"On one condition," I said, holding up a finger.

"I hardly think you're in any position to be making demands, Jake," David said dangerously.

"Be that as it may without us you'll never get your hands on the morphing cube," I said tersely.

David narrowed his eyes. "Fine. I'll play along. What is it that you want?"

"I want your solemn oath that once we give you the morphing cube you'll disappear. You'll leave Santa Barbara and you won't come after any of us again or contact the Yeerks or get in the way of our fight. Promise that you won't do anything stupid with the morphing cube and let the world or the Yeerks know that you have it."

"My 'solemn oath', huh?" David laughed at me just like I knew that he would. That was the point of that wording, after all. "Alright. I think I can handle that. It's all in my best interest, after all."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"If I get caught then that's not good for me," David said slowly as if he were talking to Forrest. "And while I can't stand you guys, any damage you do to the Yeerks can only lessen the likelihood I'll be forced to deal with them in my new home. I'm thinking of staying with your family, by the way. You mind?"

Not that it would matter if I did, of course.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "As long as you keep your word."

"What's the rat for, Jake?" David asked me.

"When we…fell out, Ax offered to disassemble the morphing cube," I told him. "None of us knew it was possible but he said that he could do it and that, more to the point, he could put it back together afterwards. We thought it would be easier to hide it if we put it in a lot of different places rather than just one so even if you found _some_ of the pieces you wouldn't be able to find all of them. And this way, we could hide it in even more spots because each piece is a lot smaller."

"But why the rat?" David pressed. "Am I supposed to morph it and go after the pieces myself? Why doesn't one of you just morph and retrieve the pieces and put it together for me?"

"Ah, well, Ax will have to put it together in the end anyway so you'll need to keep him alive," I explained. "I guess we never thought of one of us getting it, though."

"Of course you didn't," David said contemptuously. Oh, that arrogance was going to be his undoing.

"But would you really trust us to get all the pieces? I just always saw you as a man of action who would want to do it himself," I replied.

"You do have a point," David said musingly. "I am _not_ reliant on any of you and I don't want you to forget that for a second."

The familiar features of my cousin melted away into the unwelcome ones of David. He held out his hand. "Give me that rat."

Review Please!


	56. Negotiating with Madmen

Negotiating with Madmen

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_How did you find us?"_

_{The other Helmacron ship. The __**Planet Crusher**__. Rachel managed to smash it with a tire iron. Knocked it down. Jake grabbed it and clamped it into that vise in Cassie's barn.}_

"_The one my dad uses to hold wood he's working on?"…_

_{Yeah, he got 'em in that vise and kept squeezing till they agreed to help us.}_

"_You didn't trust them, I hope," Marco said._

_{We're not idiots. They gave us hostages. Their captain and a bunch of other high-ranking-}_

_-Animorphs #24._

"Well, that could have gone better," I said dryly, trying not to worry about what could be happening to Marco and Cassie or what kind of trouble they could get up to shrunken to the size of a Helmacron and stranded on a whole ship full of them.

{It could have gone worse, too,} Tobias pointed out. I couldn't really see him because of how small he was at this point but his thought-speech voice was unchanged. {And even if Cassie and Marco are off with those Helmacron lunatics, at least there's only one ship for us to deal with.}

{Prince Jake, the Helmacrons we still have may be able to tell us where the other ship is,} Ax suggested.

"Good idea," I said, warily watching the remaining ship buzzing around. For some reason they weren't trying to shrink _us_ down as well which was a relief because I honestly wasn't sure what we'd do once we were **all** miniscule.

Rachel squatted down and began to look through Cassie's dad's tools.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Those bricks are really not working for me," she explained. "Throwing them isn't doing enough damage and I can only hit them once before having to go find another brick to throw. Plus, I have to correctly predict their trajectory to even hit them."

"So you're looking for something else to hit them with?" I asked.

Rachel shook her head and stood back up. She was clutching a tire iron in her hand. "Correction: I _was_ looking for something else to hit them with. Now, as you can clearly see, I've found something."

"Just…be careful," I cautioned her, knowing that her throwing things at them had really been the only success we've had so far. "If you mess this up then we're kind of out of options."

Rachel tossed her hair behind her shoulders. "Aren't I always careful?"

We automatically waited for Marco to dispute this but obviously he wasn't there to do it as he'd just been kidnapped by the Helmacron.

"Don't distract me," Rachel breathed as she stilled and watched the remaining ship flitting about.

Ax, Tobias, and I waited tensely for Rachel to strike.

Even though I was expecting it, I still jumped when Rachel pounced and began whacking the Helmacron ship with the tire iron. She'd timed her attack perfectly so that she hit it dead on with her first blow and didn't give it a chance to get away or to fire before hitting it again and again.

{We should probably do something,} Tobias said after a minute. {And by 'we' I mean you because I'm kind of useless right now. We need that ship in one piece and the crew alive to be able to help us.}

I snapped back to reality. "Right, yeah. Rachel, I think that's enough."

Reluctantly, Rachel pulled back. Despite the exertion, she still looked perfectly put-together. Sometimes I wonder if my cousin is the secretly eighth wonder or something.

I glanced at the ship before gingerly picking it up. It _looked_ like it was still all in one piece but it was kind of hard to tell.

{Prince Jake, we should secure it so that it cannot go flying off again,} Ax told me.

"Good idea," I agreed, looking around for a place to do just that before it recovered. Rachel standing beside me and holding the tire iron menacingly probably bought me some time. My eyes fell on Cassie's dad's workbench and, more specifically, the vise. I quickly clamped it to the vise and stepped back.

{Is the inferior human done with her pointless assault?} the voice from the Helmacron ship demanded. {No matter how much she may batter us, we stay strong! We will make her suffer before allowing her to become our abject slave.}

"Slave?" Rachel sneered. "Too Yeerk-ish for my tastes. I'd rather die."

{That is a viable option as well, puny Earthling,} the Helmacron assured her, trying to sound menacing. It probably would be menacing, actually, if the ship didn't look like a toy out of Star Trek and the crew wasn't almost too small to see. As it was, it didn't really matter what they'd done because I was having a great deal of difficulty taking them seriously.

"Look, Helmacrons, we need your help," I began.

{The _Planet Crusher_ has no need to aid you. In fact, _you_ will be aiding _us_. Not that we need you, either! You will just serve us at our convenience!} the Helmacron voice of the _Planet Crusher_ boasted.

{This is going to take awhile, isn't it?} Tobias asked bemused.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. It would only get worse by the time that the day was over. "Helmacrons, think of where you are and what we could do to you. You're really not doing yourselves any favors by being difficult."

{This pathetic clamp cannot hold us forever!} the Helmacron assured us. Hopefully it would hold them for long enough because I _seriously _did not need to deal with them floating about again. {Already our people are working to free us and soon – very soon – we will be free and make you pay for your insolence!}

"Is it just me or is he sounding a lot like Visser Three?" Rachel muttered.

{_She!_} the Helmacron corrected, outraged. {We are no weak and pathetic males.}

"Right then," I said, blinking. "This is apparently a culture full of Amazons."

"You know, it's too bad they're crazy because I could get behind that," Rachel said thoughtfully.

{Visser…are there _Yeerks_ here?} the Helmacron asked suspiciously.

{It would appear that even species that the Yeerks cannot infest despise them,} Ax said, sounding oddly pleased about this fact. Personally, I wouldn't take the opinions of the Helmacrons to be worth all that much but if it made him happy then it made him happy.

"Yes, there are," I said to answer the Helmacron's question. "We fight the Yeerks. You know of them?"

{We will crush the pitiful Yeerks beneath our boots!} the Helmacron boasted.

"You might want to shrink them first," Rachel advised.

I started to say something then stopped. "Tobias?"

{I'm going to guess that Jake doesn't want you to remind them of shrinking in case they can still use the weapon even held up as they are,} Tobias said in private-thought speech.

I nodded, pleased that he'd understood me. We were really coming along as a team, weren't we? It was a good thing, too, as we'd had more and more difficult challenges recently. Or maybe it was just because we'd been able to handle more and discovered more sinister Yeerk plots to put a stop to. Either way, it was a good sign. "Exactly."

Rachel looked sheepish. "Ah, good idea."

{Helmacron, we require your assistance to locate the other ship,} Ax informed them.

{We will never help you locate the _Galaxy Blaster_! They may be pitiful fools themselves but at least they are Helmacron! We will be the ones to ultimately end them, not you inferior humans!} the Helmacron insisted.

{I'm still not an inferior human,} Ax said curtly.

"Seriously, do you have to keep repeating that we're inferior every time you say that?" Rachel demanded.

{My apologies, Rachel. It keeps slipping out,} Ax told her.

Rachel's eye twitched. "Yeah, that's really not helping your case."

I sighed. "Look, are you absolutely sure that you won't help us?"

{We would rather kill you,} came the answer which I assumed meant that they were, in fact, sure.

I sighed again. "Alright, then. It's time to get medieval then." I walked over to the vise and started squeezing the ship.

{AH! What trickery is this? What's happening?} the Helmacron demanded, shaken and alarmed.

"Ax?" I requested, not really wanting to deal with negotiating with these madmen while all focusing on putting the pressure on them.

Ax stepped forward. {We can continue applying pressure indefinitely, Helmacrons. Should Prince Jake tire then Rachel or I can start doing it. Rachel would probably enjoy it.}

"That's true," Rachel agreed.

{There's no escape from there. All you can do is endure the pressure and hope that it doesn't damage your ship or help us find the _Galaxy Blaster_. It's up to you,} Ax said calmly.

There was a silence. Presumably the Helmacrons on the ship were consulting with each other and trying to decide on the best course of action. The only _real_ course of action that they had was to help us but the Helmacrons weren't really impressing me with their sound rationality, to say the least.

"Think they'll go for it?" I wondered.

{I'd give it fifty-fifty odds,} Tobias replied. {Especially if you keep squeezing that thing.}

{All we would need to do is help you locate the _Galaxy Blaster_?} the Helmacron asked slowly.

{And return our friends to their rightful size,} Ax amended.

{We cannot do that. It takes the power of the morphing technology to restore them to their proper size,} the Helmacron informed us.

Rachel snorted. "Okay, now they're just making things up."

"You don't know that," I told her.

"I kind of do. It didn't take the morphing cube to shrink them in the first place and what kind of idiot would have technology based around a power source that they don't possess?" she demanded.

I looked pointedly at the Helmacrons.

"Okay, maybe _those_ kinds of idiots," she conceded.

{They likely do not have much of a need to un-shrink people,} Ax opined.

{Very well,} the Helmacron said finally. {We agree to your terms. We will help you locate the _Galaxy Blaster_ and then restore your friends to their rightful size.}

I stopped squeezing but didn't release them from the vise. "Hang on a minute. How do we know that we can trust you? You might just be saying that and then intend on fighting us again or flying off the minute we let you go."

There was a silence. I wasn't sure if this was because I was right or if they were just trying to come up with some form of guarantee.

{What sort of guarantee would be acceptable?} the Helmacron wondered.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Usually a hostage or something so we know you mean what you say. And an important hostage so we know you won't just sacrifice them."

{How about our captain?} the Helmacron asked excitedly.

"Wow," I said, surprised at their eagerness. "Captain's good."

{We will give you all of our high-ranking officers as a show of good faith,} the Helmacron promised. {Just let us up and then we will go find your friends. We already have a target lock on those worthless cowards in the _Galaxy Blaster_.}

"That sounds good," I said, amazed that we had managed to make them see reason so quickly. "Maybe they're not so crazy after all."

Rachel shook her head and held up the tire iron again. "Oh, I think they really are that crazy. We've just given them some excellent incentives to help us."

Review Please!


	57. Mushrooms

Mushrooms

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_But finally, at last, my life started to get back to normal. Normal, except for the fact that each day I woke up wondering: Would this be the day the Yeerks would take me? Would this be the day my friends and I would be made into Controllers? _

_But days went by and there were no sudden attacks. At school, Chapman, the assistant principal and a major Controller, ignored me like he always did. Jake's brother, Tom, just made some crack about me and mushrooms, but that was it. _

_-Animorphs #19. _

I walked into the kitchen to see Jake and Cassie sitting at the table doing homework. Well…supposedly doing homework. This being Jake and Jake's mutual crush, I've really got to wonder how much homework they're actually getting accomplished. If they keep at it until they're all done then they'll probably be here for hours.

{Oh, great,} the Yeerk groused. {I was planning on eating.}

{You don't have to eat at the table,} I pointed out.

{Well maybe I _like_ eating at the table,} the Yeerk countered.

I mentally raised my eyebrows. {Are Yeerks even allowed to like anything about being in a host with those host sympathy laws in place? You live in such a joyless society.}

{It's hard to be joyful when dealing with ungrateful hosts all the time,} the Yeerk sniffed.

{Exactly _what_ am I supposed to be so grateful about?} I asked incredulously.

The Yeerk sighed. {See, telling you wouldn't make you get it so there's no point.}

{It's not like that's ever stopped you before,} I muttered.

The Yeerk said nothing.

I sighed. {You could always ask them to move.}

{I couldn't possibly do that!} The Yeerk sounded shocked. {That would be terribly rude!}

What in the-?

{Are you kidding me?} I demanded.

{What?} the Yeerk asked, offended. {I'm not allowed to dislike rudeness now?}

{Every day you commit an act of rudeness that far eclipses anything that they could ever do,} I pointed out.

I felt a wave of mild annoyance coming from the Yeerk. {You're talking about me controlling you,} he accused.

{And you working to enslave the rest of the planet, yes,} I agreed.

{Can you _please_ just make up your mind why this is such an outrage?} he implored. {Because it seems like every day you change your mind on that. If it's not degrading or inhuman then it's a violation or immoral and now it's _rude_. I've got to say that that's a step down from the usual complaints.}

{I would love to just pick one reason why this is such an outrage,} I assured him. {Unfortunately, I can't.}

{With two brains I don't know how you humans come to a decision about _anything_,} the Yeerk grumbled.

I let it go. {It's an outrage for _all_ of those reasons you mentioned and many, many more. One of those reasons, though, yes, one of the lesser reasons is that it's quite rude.}

{Are you ever going to just drop this?} the Yeerk demanded.

{I wasn't planning on it,} I replied honestly.

"Um, are we in your way?" Cassie asked nervously. She's been nervous for a long time (or at least nervous around me since I can't say what she's like around other people) and I sort of figure it's because of her thing for Jake. The Yeerk doesn't care enough to speculate. Lately, however, she's been far more nervous. Ever since that time she was lost in the woods for days on end so I guess it's understandable. "Because we can move if you want to."

I'm glad that Cassie was found safe and sound and not just for her own sake. I mean, don't get me wrong: Cassie's a nice girl and it would be a shame if something were to happen to her but I saw the effect her disappearance had on my brother. He could hardly eat, he looked like he hadn't slept, and all he did was worry constantly. I know that he and his friends were out looking for her even if they ultimately were unsuccessful. If I hadn't known that Jake had a thing for Cassie before – which I did because I'm not _blind _– then that would have let me know.

I honestly don't know what Jake would have done if things hadn't had such a happy ending. He doesn't take bad news very well; he always finds a way to make it his fault that it happened even when it has nothing to do with his actions like usual.

{Yes, you _are_ in my way,} the Yeerk growled.

{I told you they'd move,} I said smugly.

{Don't be ridiculous, human. That's one of those offers that you can't actually take people up on!} the Yeerk exclaimed. I'm his first human host so I swear I have no idea of where he gets his views on human propriety.

The Yeerk shook my head. "No, I'm good. So, Cassie, how have you been?"

Cassie looked confused for a minute before smiling suddenly. "Oh, you mean because of my…little adventure? I'm fine, really. It's nice that everyone's so concerned but I really don't know what to say. I'm good."

"Everyone is just really glad that you're alright and that all that time they spent fearing the worst was just them freaking out," Jake assured her.

"Not that you would know anything about that, of course," the Yeerk teased.

Jake flushed. "Absolutely not. I always had faith in Cassie."

"I'm sure you did," the Yeerk agreed.

I was actually coincidentally out searching the woods where Cassie had been stranded for the first two days or so. It was an all-human party in case any humans saw so it would have been fine if we ran across Cassie. Unfortunately, we never did although eventually we did find the little Controller girl. It's terrible when the Yeerks infest people who are too young to really understand what's happening.

They went after her because of her father, I think, and when he realizes that one day…I don't know how he'll ever be able to forgive himself. Not that it was his fault or anything but it was because of his success that his daughter's been going through this terrible ordeal. Fortunately we found her before the Yeerk starved to death or that little girl might have been killed. I'm never sure if it's…well, the word 'better' doesn't really apply here so let's go with worse. I never know if it's worse to live as a Controller with the likely vain hope that one day you'll be freed or to die and be just done with it all, all the hope and the pain. But she was so young…

It's a miracle she was still alive as unarmed and injured as she was, especially with that leopard running loose. I guess having a Yeerk in her head actually paid off on that front. The little girl herself would have been far more helpless, even though she never would have been in that position without the Yeerk.

"So Cassie…" the Yeerk said slowly, grinning.

"Yeah?" Cassie asked uncertainly.

"You've always been a good kid, right?" he continued.

Cassie exchanged a puzzled look with Jake. "I…I guess so."

"So how do your parents feel about the fact that you were gone for so long because you were out in the woods doing mushrooms?" the Yeerk joked.

I groaned. {That is _not_ funny.}

{Don't blame me,} the Yeerk said virtuously. {It's _your_ sense of humor.}

{If it was then I'd think that that was funny, wouldn't I?} I asked reasonably.

{Well I got it from _your_ brain since I don't waste my time thinking up mushroom jokes,} the Yeerk declared.

{Neither do I!} I protested.

I could feel the skepticism coming from the Yeerk.

{Well, I mean, I usually don't,} I amended. {But that still wasn't funny.}

{Then why did you think of it?} the Yeerk challenged.

I felt like rolling my eyes. {Look, I can't help what kinds of random stupid things my brain thinks up. Not all attempts at jokes are funny and that most definitely isn't. You are going to ruin my reputation on this front.}

{NONE of the things that you think are funny are funny,} the Yeerk said flatly. {So I'm afraid that I really don't see the difference.}

{Just because you don't actually have a sense of humor doesn't mean that I can't be funny,} I argued.

{No,} the Yeerk agreed. That was too easy. {But I do have one and you're still not.}

Ah, there it was.

{Besides, I had to say _something_ 'humorous' if I'm to stay in character,} the Yeerk explained.

{You changed my 'character' enough already with your obsession with the Sharing and getting everyone to join,} I pointed out.

{Well then it's best not to risk it by trying to change it further now isn't it?} the Yeerk countered.

{You have _got_ to stop complaining about problems of your own making,} I snapped.

{Funny. That was just about to be my advice to you,} the Yeerk said coolly.

That got my hackles up. {Oh, this is _not-_}

{We've been over this,} the Yeerk interrupted. {And your infestation is still your own doing.}

It wasn't worth getting into again right now.

While we were discussing that, people who don't exist in my head were reacting to what the Yeerk had said.

"Tom!" Jake complained. "That's not funny."

Cassie coughed. "I…well, when you put it like that it certainly makes the situation sound very different."

The Yeerk just shrugged. "Hey, I just call them like I see them. And I saw one of those interview. Did you or did you not say that you survived on mushrooms?"

"W-well yeah," Cassie confirmed. "But I was eating them not…actually, how do you use mushrooms as a drug?"

"You eat them," Jake informed her.

"Oh," Cassie said, nonplussed. "It wasn't those kinds, though! I swear!"

"Whoa," the Yeerk said, raising my hands. "Who said anything about drugs? I just think mushrooms are strange. Jake, the lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Isn't it 'methinks the lady doth protests too much'?" Jake asked.

The Yeerk shook my head. "No. We just read Hamlet and my teacher went into a rant about that very topic. Trust me, I'll never forget the right way to quote that now."

"Seriously, I didn't do mushrooms and I never would," Cassie insisted, apparently not feeling that she'd convinced me. "If it ever happened it would have been a complete accident but since I know that some mushrooms are poisonous I made sure to only eat mushrooms that I could identify and none of those had hallucinogenic properties. I swear. I'm not that kind of person."

The Yeerk shrugged. "Hey, whatever you say, Cassie. It's your life. Although if you ever _did _develop a drug problem I want you to know that the Shar-"

Jake threw his hands up in the air. "Really, Tom? Really?"

The Yeerk smirked. "I can take a hint. Eventually. I'll just leave you two little lovebirds alone."

With that, he turned to leave.

{You realize that you didn't actually get anything to eat, right?} I asked him.

{There was no place to eat it,} the Yeerk replied indifferently.

"Wait, that wasn't what I m-" Jake started to say. "You know what? Never mind."

Review Please!


	58. Lucky

Lucky

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I should be happy for him.

I am, actually, happy for him deeper down than I'm comfortable with. The thing that prevents me from being fully happy for him is plain old-fashioned ugly human jealous.

On the surface, the idea of being jealous of Marco right now is absurd. HE had to fake his death and that of his father to save them – and us – from the Yeerks and he was forced to leave his stepmother behind. No matter what kind of issues that Marco might have had with Nora (or rather, her insistence on becoming a part of his family) he would never have wanted that for her.

His mother was replaced because his father hadn't known the truth and she was still recovering from her five year (and probably more, honestly, assuming she hadn't been taken and then immediately 'drowned') ordeal. Her physical shape was pretty bad but I still think those will heal before the mental scars will.

Marco was forced to face the fact that his father loved Nora just as much as he had loved his mother (though fortunately losing her hadn't sent him into the downward spiral that losing his first wife had). Then Marco had to make the difficult decision to lie to his father about Nora having always been a Controller and had been planted in his life to get close to his super important Z-Space work.

The reason that he did it, of course, was to try and ease his father's grief and guilt over not being able to save her and for having made her a target in the first place. I'm sure he'll have feelings of violation and guilt over violating _her_ since the Yeerk would have forced her into that relationship but that brings us to his second reason.

His father loving them both equally and knowing that it was sort of his fault, however accidentally, meant that Marco couldn't guarantee that his father would ultimately choose his mother and put their family back together. On the one hand, Marco's mother was his father's first great love and their relationship had been much longer and choosing her would allow their family to fully heal. On the other, it had been a long time since his mother was in the picture and his love for Nora was much more recent. Moving on from Marco's mother was understandable given that she had been 'dead' but dumping Nora after her infestation would probably make him feel like a bad person. And even without all of that, asking a man to choose between two women that he loves is a cruel thing indeed.

Now there's no choice to be made.

As far as Marco's dad is concerned, Marco's mother loves him and wants to be with him and Nora never did. I don't exactly approve of this little deception and I know that, in the event that we win someday, it will be all too easy for Marco's dad to discover the truth. Nora doesn't know about the lie and she'd have no reason to play along if she did. Still, it has nothing to do with the war, really, and it's Marco's family so it is – as ever – his call.

Yeah, there doesn't seem a whole lot to be jealous of in Marco's life right now. I still live in the same house that I grew up in. The only problems that my parents face are pretty standard human problems. My brother comes home every night and I never have to wonder if he's alive or not. Well…not for more than a few hours at any rate. I can go out in the open anytime I want and not have to worry about a Controller coming after me any more than they would come after anyone else.

And yet.

And yet Marco has his family back and I don't. I doubt either one of us ever saw _that_ one coming. My brother still lives right down the hall and if the day ever comes when I can justify the risk, I know right where he is to free.

In contrast, Marco's been forced to abandon his hopes of saving his mother time and time again. The first time we saw her as Animorphs, it was very brief and we were saved by her Visser Three-hating Yeerk before fleeing back to Earth and knowing that she was flying off into space, perhaps never to return.

The next time we saw her, we left with no idea of whether she had drowned or not. Then Marco had to actively try to kill her by sending her plummeting over a cliff (the only reason he'd blown our cover, a fact that I was _not happy _about but understood).

Then, after making peace with his father's remarriage, we got a call to come save her from her own people as she was on trial for treason. There might have been something to those accusations, actually, since she readily called us up and summoned us to make the Visser look stupid. Not that we're not usually all for that. Marco actually got a chance to see her again and talk to her and she convinced him to let her go back to the hell of the host life. Not because she wanted to – why would she? – but because she knew that Visser One was still needed.

When we walked away that time, I don't think any of us ever expected to see her again.

And then one day, Visser One wasn't needed anymore and she was to be put to death. For some reason, Marco's mother was to be killed with her. Since Yeerk executions are always via starvation, killing the host too wasn't even vaguely necessary. Maybe they wanted to have important secrets that Marco's mother knew die along with her? But we got involved and so, instead of losing her forever like we'd all expected, we managed to restore her to her family.

And really, what does any of the rest of it matter when compared to that?

Marco certainly didn't seem to feel that he was in any way suffering. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd been taking an almost sadistic pleasure in hearing all about my dad whenever I made it to school. As his best friend, it was my job to not only oblige him but to embellish whenever possible so that he may fully revel in his freedom from school.

Rachel and Cassie might have worried about graduation if it had been them but Marco wasn't and I wouldn't have, either. The war is heating up and I don't' anticipate it slowing again anytime soon. I doubt any of us will get a chance to conventionally graduate. Maybe get a GED someday if things end well but between all the missed school and the fact that one day – if we live long enough – we'll either see the school shut down by the Yeerks or have them finally figure out who we are, graduation just isn't anything that I see in any of our futures.

And, if nothing else, should we win this there's no way we'll be able to stay anonymous and famous people don't really get to quietly go to public school.

"Well?" Marco asked eagerly. It was after school in the valley of the free Hork-Bajir.

I groaned loudly. "I don't even want to talk about it."

"I think you should," Marco said, his smirk widening. "It's, um, very therapeutic."

"Well today was a 'fitness day' in gym sol we had to jog for half an hour straight," I complained. "Which is not only really boring but if the teacher suspects that you don't feel like you're going to die then he makes you speed up."

"Ah, fitness days. I do miss them so," Marco said sardonically.

"I'll just bet. I didn't get around to getting my math homework done since we were up all night and my teacher gave us a homework quiz," I continued.

"At least you still had a chance to do the problems," Marco pointed out.

I shook my head. "I wish. He wants to be sure that we don't do just that so he doesn't give us the problems. If you don't have them written down then you're out of luck. The teacher looked at my blank quiz and held me after class to lecture me about being responsible and my future so I was late for my next class."

Marco frowned. "Didn't he give you a pass?"

"Like Wolack cares," I scoffed. I wracked my brains for more bad news. "Um…As you know, the bus comes at, like, 6:40 and right as I was leaving the house I saw it driving past so I had to sprint to the stop on the corner of the street behind me. The bus almost didn't wait and I felt like I was going to have an asthma attack. I didn't even have time for breakfast."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jake," Marco said, not even pretending to mean it. "So what else happened?"

"We had an in-class essay on something called 'For Want of Money' and only, like, two people knew that 'want' also meant 'lack of' so most of us probably did really bad because we were writing about desiring money," I told him.

"_I_ knew that," Marco announced.

I rolled my eyes. "Which would have been really helpful if you were there."

"True," Marco agreed breezily. "What else?"

"Um…I think that might actually be…" I trailed off and snapped my fingers. "Wait! Lunch!"

"School lunch is usually disgusting," Marco said sagely.

"They had a baked _sweet potato_. It looked like some sort of demented half-formed baby," I revealed, wrinkling my nose. "I couldn't even eat it."

"You take bites out of Hork-Bajir and Taxxon all the time," Marco reminded me, enjoying this far more than was strictly necessary.

I made another face. "Well the day that you can make the case for me eating that _thing_ being necessary to save the world, we'll talk."

Marco grinned his 'challenge accepted' grin and opened his mouth.

"I ended up mooching off of Cassie," I said quickly. "The rest of the food wasn't that bad, actually. So how was your day?"

"So glad you asked, Jake," Marco replied merrily. "I woke up at around noon. My parents had made pancakes that I just had to reheat. I walked in on them making out which, while admittedly traumatizing, is an excellent sign. Then we watched 'Die Hard' as a family-"

"Because that is _such_ a family movie," I said sarcastically.

"We've watched that every Christmas since it came out on VHS," Marco explained.

"Now it's supposed to be a Christmas movie?" I asked skeptically.

Marco shrugged. "It takes place at Christmas so why not? Then after that was over I wnet to find Ax and actually beat him at a video game."

"Really?" I asked, deeply impressed.

"Granted, it was a dating simulation and Ax still doesn't understand human flirting but the point still stands," Marco insisted.

I smiled and held my hands up. "I never said otherwise."

"You were thinking it," he accused.

"I think you're projecting," I said innocently.

Marco's whole life had been torn apart while mine had not been, not yet. His only glimpses of normality these days came from whatever Rachel, Cassie, or I decided to tell him.

It was far from an idea situation and I knew that it was driving Marco crazy. He had even made a non-disparaging remark about _David_.

And yet, despite it all, he was really the lucky one and a part of me couldn't help resenting that.

Review Please!


	59. Harsh, Cold Reality

Harsh, Cold Reality

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

The TV was on too loud.

Steve teases me and says that I have 'bat ears' but I just don't like to be overwhelmed by sound. It's just as likely, really, that he has hearing loss from cranking up the volume all the time as it is that I have overly sensitive ears.

When I'm in the room, the volume has a maximum limit it's allowed to be (and it varies by television so the one in the living room cannot be higher than a sixteen) and there's little point in asking if it's _ever_ lower than that. Maybe when it's muted by the boys never do that. They're content to just shout over the TV and, preferably, only during the commercials.

Of course, the minute that I _leave_ the room, the volume magically gets much louder even though by the time I come back it's back down to sixteen and they all swear that they didn't touch the remote.

So yes, it's highly possible that I _do_ have bat ears…though on the other hand I think it's a bit more likely that Tom and Jake are determined to go deaf by the time they're out of college. I should really let them know that if someone ever comes up to them and asks for a dime then, more than likely, they actually want the _time_ before then. It will save them a lot of embarrassment, I'm sure.

They'll just roll their eyes, I'm sure, but one day it _will_ come in handy. And every day that they set out to destroy their hearing is another day sooner that they'll have to face awkward and uncomfortable situations like that.

I'm right about to stick my head back into the living room to tell them to turn it down (one of these days I _will_ catch them with the volume still too high, especially since it should be really hard to hear me approaching over the TV) when I dimly hear the phone ringing.

Silently cursing (that's _another_ reason to want the television at a reasonable level), I hurry to the kitchen phone, hoping that I'm not near the end of the ringing, and pick it up.

"Hello?" I ask, a little breathlessly.

"Hello. Jean?" The voice is familiar but hoarse enough to be not quite recognizable.

"Yes," I said, hoping he would give his name or say something that would help me identify him soon so that I wouldn't have to embarrass myself by asking. It's times like these that I think we should just bite the bullet and invest in Caller ID; it would save us a lot of trouble. Steve doesn't want to, though. He's afraid that we'll start screening our calls an d avoid talking to people we don't really want to hear from or if we're not in the mood and it's not important. If you take his word for it, us buying Caller ID is just the first step on the road to being antisocial hermits. And yes, these hermits are the particularly antisocial kind as opposed to the readily friendly regular hermits.

"This is Peter," Peter identified. As it happens, I know several Peters but now that it's been narrowed down sufficiently, I realize that this is Marco's father.

"Oh, hello, Peter," I said, trying to sound like I hadn't just figured out who was calling. "Is everything alright? You sound a little under the weather?"

There was a long silence.

"Peter?" I asked carefully, wondering if we'd been disconnected.

"I'm still here," he assured me. "And no, I-I'm fine. It's just…Is Eva there with you by any chance?"

"Eva?" I repeated blankly. Why would Eva be here? We had become friends, true, but that was only through our children. We were happy scheduling play dates for our children and talking while Jake and Marco hung out but our connection was through them. Marco wasn't here and I think he's even sick right now.

"Yes, Eva," Peter confirmed, a little impatiently. "My wife."

"I know who Eva is," I said, trying not to get annoyed but Peter's uncharacteristic rudeness. "Did she say she was coming over here?"

"No, she didn't," Peter replied. "But I'm just trying everyone I can think of to try to get a hold of her."

"Peter, did something happen?" I asked, my heart stopping. It seemed absurd that something would happen to someone I knew in a nice area like this but not all bad things happen in bad areas and, statistically speaking, the bad things that happen in nicer areas have to happen to _someone_ so why wouldn't that someone be someone I know?

"I…I don't know," Peter admitted. "She said that she was going to take the boat out or something. I-I wasn't really listening. The game was on and…Normally I wouldn't worry because Eva knows what she's doing out there but with the storm…And it's been hours and I haven't heard anything. She didn't tell me when she'd be back but she's never out this long."

"Well," I said slowly, trying to sound positive and not let all those worst case scenarios that were not flying through my head be apparent to Peter, "like you said, Eva knows what she's doing. She wouldn't take the boat out if the weather was going to be that bad."

"But it's _because_ Eva knows what she's doing that I worry," Peter said miserably. "A less experienced sailor might not know that the weather is that bad but a less experienced sailor might also be warned off while Eva never would be. She'd always think she knew what she was doing and that was usually true, even when she took some big risks. Maybe she went out thinking it would be fine and then things started getting _really_ bad and…I don't know."

He was rambling and I could tell that he'd been driving himself crazy before he picked up the phone and started to frantically call people. I doubted that every negative answer was helping his peace of mind at all.

"And it's not just that," Peter confessed. "I called down at the marina and even though no one remembers seeing her, the boat's not there."

"Maybe the storm blew it away," I said, trying to pretend like this wasn't pretty much a confirmation that she'd been out there in that terrible storm. I shivered. I didn't like the water at the best of times and in the middle of a storm…I couldn't even imagine.

"All the other boats were there," Peter said flatly. "And it showed no signs of being torn away from its tether. She had to have taken it out."

"Well that still doesn't mean that anything happened," I said, really grasping at straws now and well-aware of it. I couldn't help myself, though. I don't know what I'd do if it were Steve out there lost in the ocean somewhere. "She could have found an island or a boat or something or even gotten back to the coast to seek shelter. Or maybe she did get shipwrecked and is floating on a piece of driftwood right now waiting for someone to come and save her."

"Yeah, maybe," Peter muttered distractedly, clearly not believing me. I didn't blame him since I didn't really believe me either.

"Listen, Peter, did you call the police?" I asked him seriously. "We can wonder all we want but they have a better chance of actually finding her…one way or the other."

There was a choked gasp on the other side of the line.

I waited patiently, giving him a moment to compose himself. I think that, vague and roundabout as it was, that was the first time he had to actually face the possibility that his wife was dead, that Marco's mother wasn't coming back to him.

"I…I thought you had to wait twenty-four hours," Peter said at last.

I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know but I think you should call them either way. They can at least know to be on the lookout even if she's not officially missing and maybe with the storm and the fact that she probably went out in her boat they'll speed up the timeline."

"You're right," Peter agreed, sounding dazed. "I'll call them after this. I just wish that I could be out searching myself but Marco's so sick and he's only eleven so I don't want to leave him home by himself and I certainly don't want to take him with me to look for his missing mother."

This was something that I could actually help with. "Bring Marco over here. We can watch him and you can help look for Eva."

"Are you sure?" Peter sounded so desperately hopeful that even if I _had_ been just trying to be polite – which I wasn't – then I wouldn't have had the heart to deny him. I guess that even in the midst of all of his urgency and desperation he couldn't help but try to be polite, too.

"Of course," I said warmly, trying to inject as much extra sincerity into my voice as was humanly possible. "We'll be happy to have him for however long you need."

"I…thank you," Peter said quietly. "We should be over there in about twenty minutes or so."

"Okay," I agreed. "And Peter…good luck."

"Thanks," Peter said absently then hung up without even saying goodbye.

I stared at the phone in my hand for a long time before putting it back. Then I slowly rose to my feet and went into the family room.

Strangely, the television was much quieter than it had been _from the other room_ but I wasn't really worried about that right now. How in the world was I supposed to break the news to them? Especially to Jake who was so much younger and Marco's best friend? I didn't want them to get all worked up over nothing but I also didn't want to make light of it given that Marco could have very well just lost his mother. What had Eva been _thinking_?

At times like this, I really wish that there were some sort of parenting manual passed out at the hospital or something.

"Mom?" Tom asked, confused.

I realized that I had been standing there blankly for too long.

"I have something I need to tell you," I told them seriously.

"Who died?" Tom asked predictably.

I closed my eyes for a moment. "No one…we hope."

"What's that mean?" Jake asked, frowning.

"It means that we don't know where Marco's mother is so he's coming over here while his father is off looking for her," I explained.

Jake's eyes were wide. "Is she _dead_?"

"Probably," Tom agreed. "Or at least kidnapped. People don't just not come home and be fine, after all."

"Tom!" I exclaimed. He was right, of course, but that didn't mean he had to upset his little brother.

"Sorry," Tom said sheepishly.

"Now, to answer your question, Jake," I said, turning back to my youngest, "we don't know what happened to her yet and it's too soon to say anything about being dead…_especially_ to Marco when he gets here. And he's sick, too, so make sure to be extra nice to him, okay?"

"I'm _always_ nice," Jake claimed. "Specially to Marco."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said, nodding. "Tom?"

Tom made a face. "Yeah, if he's sick then I don't really want to go anywhere near him."

I sighed. "That's fine. Just make sure you don't make it obvious that you're avoiding him."

"I won't be around him long enough to make him think that," Tom promised.

Well…it was close enough.

I sent the pair of them off to tidy up the house a bit for visitors (our house was usually kept fairly neat anyway but there was never any harm in straightening up) and then I sat heavily in the recliner to wait for Peter to drop Marco off.

This wasn't happening to me. It was happening to Eva and Peter and Marco and probably even Jake more than me. I was genuinely worried about Eva, make no mistake, but a part of me couldn't resist making this about my family.

We don't live in a bubble and Steve and I always knew that we couldn't protect them from everything. Just the same, Tom was only fourteen and poor Jake eleven. Surely we could have protected them for longer than that?

But no. Eva had chosen to go out into a storm alone and now harsh, cold reality was knocking on our door and it was never, ever going to go away.

Review Please!


	60. Cover For Me

Cover For Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_It was impossible to avoid thinking it was a gun. I walked past him, pretending not to notice. He grabbed me. Pushed me against the wall._

"_I have to go out. Cover for me. If Mom or Dad asks, I'm studying. Got it?"_

_I nodded. It wasn't so different from any number of times Tom had playfully put on a similar act. We both knew not to take it seriously. Just one problem: This time Tom was deadly serious._

_-Megamorphs #4._

I was walking into my room with my new comic books and trying to decide which one of them to read first when I noticed Tom's door inching open.

I dropped my comic books on my bed (just to make sure that nothing happened to them) and then went to investigate.

The door was completely shut now and I might have been imagining it but I decided to make sure. I tried the knob and found it was locked. Tom had been saying that he wanted us to knock before opening the door, hadn't he? I never remembered but since I couldn't get in without knocking (or without getting the key from the bathroom but it was easier to just knock and I was less likely to annoy him) I decided that now was as good a time as any to start listening to him about that.

I firmly knocked twice on the door and waited for a response.

"Who is it?" Tom called out a moment later.

"It's me, Jake," I told him. I could have said anything and he'd be able to recognize my voice, I guess, but he asked who it was so why not answer the question?

"Hm…Jake, you say?" Tom repeated. "Can you prove it?"

"I…don't know," I replied. Why would I need to prove it? He knows what I sound like. Does he think I'm a spy or something? Is this a game of some kind? "How am I supposed to prove it?"

"An excellent question," Tom replied, sounding pleased. "I'll leave you out there while you think of a way."

"_Tom_…" I complained. That would take _forever_. I'm not always the most creative guy around. Maybe I should call Marco. He was sure to have an idea. Or five. One of them might even work. But then he'd mock me mercilessly for not being able to think of a way in myself and for needing to call him in.

"_Jake_…" he said mockingly.

"I'll go get the key," I threatened.

The door quickly opened. "And…that was the password!"

"There was a password?" I asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Clearly I didn't need to since you guessed it," Tom said, shrugging. "Now quick, get in here."

"It would have been quicker if I hadn't had to guess a password I didn't know was there," I grumbled.

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled me into his room before promptly shutting it and locking it behind me. "Well it was quick enough as it was and we're wasting more time than you spent guessing by talking about it."

"What's going on?" I asked, puzzled. "And where did you get a rope?"

Tom smiled mischievously. "I'm going to have to plead the fifth on that one."

"Um…what?" I asked, now completely lost.

"People do it on TV all the time," Tom explained, "when they're in court. It means that you're choosing to use your fifth amendment right."

"What's an 'amenment'?" I asked.

"Amendment," Tom corrected. "You know the Constitution, right?"

"Yes," I said nodding, pleased that we were getting back to things I understood. "That's where they wrote the government."

Tom paused. "You know what, close enough. Well after they 'wrote the government' they realized they forgot to add some parts of it and that in the future they might need to add more parts to the government. Each new bit they added is called an amendment and the one I'm talking about was the fifth one."

"And what does it say?" I asked curiously.

"It means that, even though when you're in court you have to tell the truth, if someone asks you a question and answering it could get you in trouble you don't have to answer it. Like if you killed a guy and were on trial and someone asked you if you killed him you don't have to lie. You could just say 'I plead the fifth'," Tom explained.

I frowned. "But…won't that make everyone know that you did it?"

"Maybe," Tom allowed. "But they can't prove it and they're not supposed to let the fact that you won't answer make them think you're guilty."

"I see," I said. And I did, kind of. "So you won't tell me where you got the rope. But _why_ do you have the rope? Do I get to know that, at least?"

"Oh, that part's simple and what I need your help with," Tom told me.

I eyed the rope uncertainly. "I don't really know much about ropes or knots or anything so I don't know how much help I can be."

"I don't need your help with the tying," Tom assured me. "I've got that part covered, don't you worry."

"Then what do you need my help with?" I asked.

"I'm going to use the rope to climb out of the window," Tom announced.

"W-what?" I asked, startled. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," Tom said, nodding. "Why wouldn't I be serious? Is sneaking out the window in broad daylight using rope the kind of thing that people joke about?"

But I was grinning now because I realized what he was doing. "No, I guess not."

"_Exactly_," Tom said, gesturing with his hands.

"Am I allowed to know _why_ you're going to sneak out of your bedroom window in broad daylight using a rope?" I inquired politely.

"I'm going to this really awesome party," Tom confided.

"And Mom and Dad won't let you go?" I asked. I tried to raise an eyebrow but I kind of failed so I raised both of my eyebrows. Mom and Dad let us do a lot of stuff.

"Well…it might be at someone's house whose parents aren't there but there will be college girls," Tom admitted. If this was a real thing then I'd be worried but I knew he was just making things up because I was asking all these questions. If I asked too many and he didn't want to think of anymore answers he'd probably 'plead his fifth' again.

"And you'd tell Mom and Dad this?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Of course!" Tom exclaimed. "What am I supposed to do, _lie_ to them?"

"I don't think sneaking out of your room is any better…" I remarked.

Tom shook his head. "Oh, but it is. They won't ask me where I'm going and so I won't have to tell them and I won't even have to say that I'm not home."

"Are you planning on climbing back in here in the dark when you get back?" I asked.

Tom frowned. "I…actually did not think that far ahead. Maybe. Or if it's really late then I could just be quiet and let myself in."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked him.

"You have perhaps the most important part of all," Tom said seriously.

"There are only two of us involved and you're just going to a party," I pointed out.

"That doesn't make your job any less important," Tom said, patting me on the head.

I made a face and pulled away. "What is it?"

"Chances are that at some point in the next few hours, perhaps around dinnertime or bedtime, our parents will wonder where I am and why they haven't seen me," Tom explained.

"They do really like family meals," I agreed. "And unless we're sick or something or not here we're supposed to go. Should I tell them that you're sick?"

Tom tilted his head back, considering it. "No," he eventually decided. "That would get me out of having to go downstairs but you know what Mom and Dad are like when someone's sick. They'd be in and out of here all night starting the minute you said I was sick. It would be better to just have no idea where I was at all."

That gave me an idea. "You could pretend to be kidnapped."

"It would make it a little awkward when I came back a few hours later," Tom pointed out.

I shook my head. "No, no, it'd be great. You could get all roughed up and come back with a story of how you escaped them."

"Yeah but the police would be involved and that might be going a bit too far," Tom replied.

I looked pointedly at the rope. "And that isn't?"

"There's nothing illegal about climbing out of your own bedroom window," Tom told me. "Faking a kidnapping probably is all sorts of illegal, though."

"Then I've got nothing," I said, shrugging apologetically.

"I already have an idea," Tom assured me. "Just tell them that I've got a really important test coming up and that I really have to study and don't want to be disturbed. I don't even have time for dinner."

That sounded like a much better idea. "What subject?"

Tom's eyes flickered. "Math," he said, almost bitterly.

I guess he was still upset about that time that they thought he cheated. Mom and Dad were really sorry when the truth came out but that didn't make the fact that they didn't believe him any better. I always knew he was telling the truth and wouldn't do something like that and I hoped he knew that but I didn't know how to tell him.

"Okay," I said, nodding my head. "If anybody asks then I'll tell them that you're studying in your room and don't want anybody to bother you."

"That's exactly it," Tom confirmed. "And if they want to come up anyway, talk them out of it. Any questions?"

"Yeah. What do I say if you break your leg when you climb out the window?" I ask innocently.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Nothing because it's not going to happen."

"Yeah but what if-" I started to say.

"It's not going to happen!" Tom repeated louder.

"I'm going to take that as an 'I don't know what's going on'," I informed him. "And if you get caught sneaking back into the house then I also had no idea what was going on."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Tom said, sounding almost proud. "Now you should get going so no one sees us in here together and gets suspicious."

"Suspicious of what?" I asked blankly. "We're brothers so it's not weird for us to be in the same room talking."

"Maybe not," Tom conceded. "But when you're actually up to something then _everything_ you do is suspicious or at least you have to think that it is. And it's better to be safe than sorry anyway."

I shrugged. "Okay. Let me know how the party was."

"Will do," he said cheerfully.

I let myself out and the door relocked behind me almost immediately. I went into my room and played eeny, meeny, miny, moe to figure out which comic to read first.

When it was time for dinner, Tom beat me to the table.

Review Please!


	61. Killing Time

Killing Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

The Yeerk was bored again and was in the middle of actually rearranging the pantry when the doorbell rang.

{Oh, thank God!} he exclaimed.

{How very human of you,} I said, enjoying his annoyance even as I was myself annoyed at the fact that that indicated that he was getting that used to being me.

{It's disgusting the little habits you pick up from hosts,} the Yeerk grumbled. He gave the pantry one last exasperated look then started to head for the door. {That was taking _forever_. I had no idea how time-consuming I'd be when I started doing it.}

{Wasn't the point of doing it to kill time?} I asked rhetorically.

Predictably, the Yeerk answered anyway. {Not _that_ much time!}

{Well it wouldn't have taken as long if you didn't keep changing the way you were arranging everything,} I pointed out.

{I wouldn't have kept changing it if I could have gotten it to look right,} the Yeerk said as if that justified it.

The Yeerk opened the door to find my cousin Rachel standing there. Her back was to me and her head was tilted back, just enjoying the warm, sunny weather.

{How rude,} the Yeerk complained. {If she's going to interrupt me-}

{You wanted to be interrupted,} I cut in.

{I _never_ want to be interrupted,} the Yeerk claimed.

{Then why do you interrupt me so much?} I demanded.

{Because I like interrupting other people,} the Yeerk explained. {And rude behavior to a host doesn't count.}

{I kind of think it does,} I argued.

{No, it really doesn't,} the Yeerk disagreed. {Now what was I saying?}

I didn't reply but I didn't have to because the second he asked my mind supplied the information.

{Oh, right. If she's going to interrupt me then the least she can do is have the decency to be paying attention when I come see what she wants,} the Yeerk complained.

{You didn't come right away,} I pointed out. {So what's wrong with focusing on something else while she waits?}

{It didn't take _that_ long,} the Yeerk protested. {And what's wrong is that it wastes my valuable time when I could be dealing with her and moving on.}

{You could always get her attention,} I reminded him.

The Yeerk chose not to answer that but acknowledged my suggestion as a good one when he called her name.

Rachel jumped and turned around to face me, her eyes slightly panicky.

The Yeerk laughed. "Hey, don't worry about it. Everyone zones out."

"Sorry, you startled me," Rachel said, stepping a little closer. "Is Jake in? I wanted to see if he wanted to go to the mall or something."

The Yeerk nodded. "Yeah, he's here. Of course, he's in the shower right now so you'll have to wait a minute."

Rachel nodded. "Oh, of course, I understand. Well, if you'll just tell him when he gets out that I'm waiting for him then-"

The Yeerk stopped her. "Wait, are you planning on waiting out here or something?"

Rachel frowned. "Well, why not? It's a nice day out and I'm enjoying the weather."

{So I noticed,} the Yeerk muttered. He shook his head. "Don't be silly. I don't know how long it will be and what are you going to do? Sit on the grass? You'll get grass stains. Or just stand out here awkwardly? Please."

Rachel looked strangely reluctant to come inside. "I really don't want to be any bother."

"You won't be," the Yeerk promised her. "It will just be for a few minutes and I'm not really doing much of anything anyway."

{That's true. Given how easily you get bored, I really have to wonder what you'll do should you ever stop being part of an invasion and just have to be a citizen of the Yeerk Empire. They'll be a lot less for you to do and a lot less distraction. You'll go mad within a week,} I predicted.

{Don't be silly, human,} the Yeerk sniffed. {I am not dependent on anything human to amuse myself with.}

{_I'm_ human,} I pointed out.

{Hosts don't count,} the Yeerk said dismissively.

{Will you stop saying that?} I demanded.

{Maybe when it stops being true,} the Yeerk replied, evidently not even willing to commit to that. {And as long as it doesn't cross over into host sympathy it's fine. Besides, I intend to be a Sub-Visser long before then and those in positions of leadership always have something to occupy their time. And if they don't – or choose not to in Visser Three's case – they can always find an obsession.}

"Well…" Rachel trailed off. She looked like she really didn't want to come inside for some reason but like she couldn't think of a polite way of getting out of it since the Yeerk had insisted. "I guess if it's just for a few minutes."

The Yeerk gestured for her to go in ahead of him so he could close the door and as she passed her expression was more appropriate for a funeral than a few minute wait.

{When did Rachel decide she didn't like you?} the Yeerk wondered.

{I think you mean when did she decide she didn't like _you_,} I retorted as he followed her into the kitchen. She was seated at the table and the Yeerk took the chair opposite her. {She hasn't spoken to me in years and we got along fine then.}

{But she doesn't even know that I exist so, really, it's you,} the Yeerk claimed.

{Her not knowing about you doesn't make it any less you that she's talking to,} I countered.

{But I'm _acting _like you,} the Yeerk reminded me.

I mentally snorted. {Occasionally.}

{Most people would be happy that I've spent enough time here that I can start showing a little of my true personality,} the Yeerk said disapprovingly.

{Then go tell a Yeerk,} I retorted.

"Are you okay?" the Yeerk asked.

Rachel nearly jumped. "What do you mean am I okay? Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You just look a little…skittish," the Yeerk explained.

Rachel smiled. "Oh, well between us I'm a little high on caffeine right now so until that wears off I'm going to be kind of jumpy around everyone."

"Oh, good," the Yeerk said, faking relief. "Because I was beginning to think it was just me."

Rachel shook her head, still smiling. "Oh, no. Sorry if I gave you that impression. I just really underestimated how strong that coffee would be. But it tasted so _good_, you know?"

"You might want to be more careful in the future," the Yeerk advised.

"Well that or develop a full-blown caffeine addiction and build up my tolerance," Rachel joked.

The Yeerk shrugged. "Hey, whatever keeps you steady."

Rachel started to jiggle her legs.

{I should have just left her outside,} the Yeerk complained. {I _hate_ making small-talk with humans.}

{You're the one who invited her inside when she clearly wanted to stay outside,} I helpfully reminded him.

{I know but that doesn't make it any better,} the Yeerk whined.

{What's Yeerk small-talk like?} I wondered, not sure if I really wanted to know.

{Usually it's torn between how much we hate the Andalites and how much we hate Visser Three. Occasionally we combine the two and accuse the Visser of having an Andalite fetish,} the Yeerk explained.

{Only the two topics?} I asked, surprised. {Or, well, three I guess. That never gets old?}

{_Never_,} the Yeerk assured me.

{Well as long as you don't start talking about the weather or something you should be fine,} I told him. {Because nothing comes off as more desperate and uncomfortable than talking about the weather. Even sitting in silence would be better.}

{We _already_ talked about the weather!} the Yeerk cried out. "So, Rachel, I really haven't seen you around very often and we really don't live that far away."

"We've never lived that far away from each other," Rachel responded. "But we haven't ever been the spending every weekend at each other's houses' type of cousins."

"That's true," the Yeerk agreed. And then there was the divorce, too, but since Rachel wasn't a Controller that would be rude to say. "But you and Jake seem to be spending an awful lot of time together so I thought we'd see more of you."

A guarded look entered Rachel's eyes. Apparently this was not a subject she was comfortable with although it sounded like a perfectly safe topic to me. But then, most people would think that, say, the Sharing was a nice safe topic and it was really a catastrophe that could end life as you knew it.

"It's not surprising, really," Rachel told me. "You know about Jake and Cassie, right?"

The Yeerk laughed. "_Everyone_ knows about Jake and Cassie. Those two are **not** subtle."

Rachel laughed, too. "Agreed. Well, they're still not _officially_ going out even though it's been _ages_ so they need an excuse to hang out together. Since Jake and I are cousins, well, it's easier to just have me and Cassie and him and Marco and sometimes some other people all hanging out in a group together and pretending not to notice when those two start holding hands."

"Ah, the wonders of young love," the Yeerk said dramatically.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? You're, what, three years older than me!"

"Three years is practically forever in teenage years. Just look at dating laws," the Yeerk advised her.

Rachel shook her head, amused. "I'll take your word for that, actually."

"Or you could do that," the Yeerk said agreeably. "I'll have you know that I'm _very _reliable."

"I'm not sure that someone's reliability is something you're supposed to take their word for, actually," Rachel replied.

"So if I said don't trust me I'm not even vaguely reliable…" the Yeerk prompted.

Rachel grinned. "Well then I'd be on the lookout because why on Earth would somebody say that?"

"Take about a double standard," the Yeerk complained. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

"Actually, it's more 'ambivalent if you do, damned if you don't'," Rachel corrected.

The Yeerk was about to reply when Jake walked into the kitchen, still drying his hair with a towel.

"Jake!" Rachel exclaimed, immediately jumping up. Was it my imagination or was she relieved to see him?

"Rachel? What are you doing here?" Jake asked curiously.

"Do you want to hit the mall with me? There's a huge sale," Rachel said enticingly.

Jake laughed. "You know, it _sounds_ like she's giving me a choice in the matter."

"It's only polite," Rachel said sweetly.

"I don't know why you guys spend so much time at the mall," the Yeerk commented.

"Because we're teenagers and it's fun," Rachel responded matter-of-factly. "You might have understood three teenage years ago."

"I'll never admit to it," the Yeerk swore. "And that's not what I meant. None of you have a car so you always have to walk there and it's too far to make it worth it."

"We don't think so," Jake replied simply.

"So are you coming or what?" Rachel asked him.

Jake gave his head one last rub and then threw the towel down on the table. "Yeah, just let me get my shoes."

"Jake!" the Yeerk complained, wrinkling his nose.

Jake paused on his way to the laundry room to get his shoes. "What?"

"Can you not do that? People _eat_ off of the table," the Yeerk reminded him.

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, off of plates. Or if it bothers you that much then just wipe it off."

With that, he disappeared into the other room.

Rachel was also looking a bit perturbed. "So…we have three more teenage years of that to look forward to?"

"Oh, I hope not," the Yeerk said horrified. "But hey, Jake's always been pretty mature so hopefully he'll grow out of it faster."

{You know, Yeerk, that may be the first unprompted nice thing you've ever said about my brother,} I said, impressed.

{Oh, shut up.}

Review Please!


	62. Perfectly Nice Parents of a Sociopath

The Perfectly Nice Parents of a Sociopath

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I didn't recognize the people parked outside the cemetery although, from the way they were staring at me and the way that everyone knows me now, I knew that they were there for me.

I considered just walking right past them. I had enough of stalkers and fame-hounders in my everyday life and I did not need to deal with them here.

But then, no one's every come to the cemetery before and I rather liked it that way. I came to the cemetery to think and to remember without feeling like I had to respond to what happened a certain way or worrying people. Maybe if I spoke to them then I could get them to go away and leave me the cemetery so I could continue to come in peace.

I don't know if my visits actually _help_ but they aren't hurting and I do feel compelled to come out here sometimes so I don't see the harm. Marco does and he's very vocal about it but I can live with that.

I walked over to them and they quickly got out of the car and came over to me. There was a man and a woman, both around my parents age. She was blonde and he was dark-haired and they both looked a little ragged. The war's been over for some time but being a Controller (well, being one for longer than three days) seemed to take some time to heal.

"I'm sorry to intrude upon you like this," the man began. "I know that visits to a cemetery are an intensely personal thing but we couldn't get to your house."

I have security there.

"We just didn't know what else to do," the woman said desperately. "And we just had to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" I asked blankly. I didn't remember them but most likely they were former Controllers or had someone close to them who was or they wouldn't be so desperate to meet me.

They looked disappointed.

"I can understand why you wouldn't remember us," the man said finally. "But I'm hoping that you will remember my son. I'm Paul Mitchell and this is my wife Christine."

It still wasn't ringing a bell but I knew better than to tell them that if there was a chance that they would tell me who their son was and why I was supposed to know him. Even now, I didn't like to upset people if I can help it and I've learned that one of the worst feelings in the world, even more than being hated, is the feeling of simply being forgotten. The feeling that your existence and whatever horror you've been through was simply not worth being remembered by somebody else. I had a few experiences like that because every former Controller I came across seemed to think that I should know them personally and, even if I'd seen them around sometimes, I just really couldn't do that. Marco said that I shouldn't feel guilty because we saved them all so we get a pass on remembering them but I still feel awkward.

"Our son," Christine added helpfully, "was David Mitchell. He found the morphing cube."

Oh.

The words echoed through my head. _David Mitchell, David Mitchell, David Mitchell_.

I knew David. I'd forgotten his last name but that hadn't really mattered. I hadn't seen his mother but I had seen his father. It looks like they made it through the war. And now they were asking me what happened to their son. I felt vaguely guilty that I hadn't remembered Paul, at least, since in some way his life was ruined because of us. I mean, we had tried to get the morphing cube before the Yeerks got involved and David had made that impossible so even without our involvement he was a Controller (because the Yeerks apparently couldn't just break in or buy it legitimately and went straight to high-profile home invasion) but since we were involved, I felt responsible.

"I remember David," I said cautiously.

"Oh, good," Christine said, relieved. "We thought that you would but we weren't sure."

"We know that David was with you in the beginning, at least," Paul told me. "He had even gotten the power to morph and that sent the Yeerks into a frenzy. But then we didn't hear anything else and we wasn't with you when you ended the war so we know he must be dead but…what happened?"

"How do you know he's dead?" I asked carefully. "He wasn't with us at the end but there's a lot of things that could have happened."

"We know he wasn't infested because everyone knew who he was and he was morph-capable so that wouldn't have been kept quiet," Christine reasoned.

"And what else could have happened to him? Our David never would have run from a fight, especially not with what happened to us," Paul said with such conviction that I knew that I wasn't going to be able to tell him the truth. These looked like good, ordinary people and I knew that they'd been through the same kind of hell that my parents had. According to Cassie, his first plan was to betray us and sell out Earth, giving the Yeerks a victory so that he could get his parents back. Would they be touched to know that he would have destroyed everything for them? Of course, when the Yeerks actually did get the morphing technology things played out rather differently but that doesn't mean it would have worked out way back then.

And once Cassie convinced him he couldn't get his parents back, he was ready to walk away from the fight easily enough. I never understood David and that's the bit that I understood the least. Rachel, Cassie, Tobias, and Ax weren't really able to put themselves in David's shoes but Marco and I could and we'd talked about it and neither of us could understand just leaving our families to the Yeerks. Both of us had gotten into and committed to this fight for our loved ones. And as David himself pointed out, David had more on the line than either of us and yet, somehow, it hadn't been enough.

"David is dead, yes," I told them, sighing heavily. I didn't even know if I was lying or not. It was three years ago now since we'd trapped him as a rat on an island of rats. I don't know how long rats live but I'm sure David wasn't trying all that hard to stay alive. And the thought of him still out there, lost and forgotten about, after all this time was not the kind of image I wanted in my head so he simply must have been dead.

Despite professing that they had already known that, David's parents gripped each other's hands tightly. But then, there's knowing and there's _knowing_, isn't there?

"What happened?" Paul asked me again.

I wasn't prepared to meet them so I didn't have a story prepared and would have to come up with one on the spot. Hopefully it would be convincing and also make it seem like their son's death wasn't in vain. They wouldn't appreciate a death not on Earth and they'd probably prefer a death in his natural body but I didn't think I could work that in there. And even though I generally didn't talk to Cassie, I'd have to force myself to contact her to let her and Marco in on the official story in case they came asking. They wouldn't be able to find Tobias and Ax was never here.

It shouldn't be too soon and make them feel like David was incompetent but set it too late and they'd wonder why we'd never mentioned David.

Maybe…

"As you're no doubt aware, Marco's mother was the host body to the former Visser One for most of the war, or at least our part in it," I began.

The Mitchell's nodded, although they did look a little puzzled as to what that had to do with their son.

"Towards the end of the war, we heard that she was going to be publicly executed and we knew that Marco's mother would be able to give us a great deal of information that we could and did use to defeat the Yeerks," I lied. "We knew that it was really, really risky. Visser One – the former Visser Three – had really hated his predecessor and he had a habit of turning executions into public spectacles. We knew that getting in and getting her out was going to take a miracle but it was a risk that we all agreed to take…David included."

"What happened?" Christine whispered.

"It was even more difficult than we thought it would be. We had never encountered the elite blue band Hork-Bajir before and Visser One _really_ wanted to see her die. David…David was in Hork-Bajir morph. He died ensuring that we could get away but I don't think the Yeerks realized that they had killed one of us because of his morph. Even when it looked like he was going to die, he told us to go without him because this was more important than any one life and we had to get what we had come there for," I said quietly. "Your son was so brave at the end. I wish we could have saved him but…in the end, I don't think we would have gotten away without his sacrifice."

There were tears in Christine's eyes and Paul was openly crying by the end.

"I'm sorry to have had to be the one to tell you this," I said uncomfortably.

"No, i-it's fine. At least we know now," Christine assured me.

"And at least our son died a hero. There are many worse deaths than that, many meaningless deaths. I think that we can take comfort in the fact that without David and his sacrifice, we might still be Controllers today," Paul agreed, closing his eyes.

"Your son never stopped fighting to free you and I think he'd be glad to know that he succeeded," I told them, hoping I sounded sincere. If nothing else, he probably would have been happy that his parents had survived all of this. It didn't seem fair that David's family had survived their time with the Yeerks and mine had not but I knew that David had his own private hell to deal with.

"Thank you for telling us this, Jake," Christine said, taking my hand abruptly.

It was all I could do not to reflexively pull away.

"I know it couldn't have been easy to tell us about our son's death but…well, we needed to hear it," she continued.

"It doesn't matter to us if the whole world knows what happened or not because _we_ know and we'll never forget," Paul said gruffly. "Thank you again. You have no idea what this means to us."

Probably not, I silently agreed. "It was the least I could do," I said instead.

They turned and got into their car and drove away, better for the lie I'd told.

It was a win for all of us, I think. They got to idolize their dead sociopathic son and I got to keep the solace of the dead.

Review Please!


	63. Unanimous

Unanimous

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_On Aftran's second day out of the Yeerk pool, everyone in the group was well enough for a short meeting. We all agreed that we couldn't let Aftran die. It was Jake who thought of the way to save her. _

_He suggested that we give her the power to morph, on the condition that she choose one morph and stay in it forever. It was just safer that way. For everyone. Like I said, the decision was unanimous. _

_-Animorphs #29. _

Note: Somehow, I've always suspected that it didn't go as smoothly as Cassie chose to remember.

I don't know about everyone else but I'm still really nauseous and my head spins if I move too quickly. Convincing my parents that I was well enough to leave the house even when I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed was a challenge but it's been two days since Aftran left the Yeerk Pool and so we don' t really have the luxury of waiting until we're all feeling better.

I can't really complain, either. Ax had brain surgery two days ago and yet he's here with us with no objections.

"I just…I don't know what to do," Cassie confessed. I had already known that Cassie was awesome but this single-handed rescue mission in the Yeerk Pool (while Visser Three was there!) and then emergency brain surgery on an alien just ensured that no one will be able to doubt her again. "I mean, we can't let her die. We just can't."

"I agree," Rachel said loyally. "What's the point of saving her if we just let her die ourselves?"

"Oh, I don't know," Marco muttered. "Maybe the fact that this way when she dies she won't take us all with her?"

"That's not good enough," Rachel said flatly.

{It would be unfortunate to let her die after all the effort we've spent keeping her alive,} Ax agreed. {But at the same time, she cannot go back to the Yeerk Pool. She'll just die horribly there and we'll be in as much danger as ever. Perhaps…}

{Perhaps what?} Tobias prompted.

Ax swung his stalk eyes. {Perhaps we should kill her after all.}

"_What_?" Cassie burst out. I hadn't actually thought that Cassie was particularly intimidating before but then I've never seen her this mad. Her eyes were narrowed, her teeth were bared, and her hands were clenched. Was it my imagination or was smoke coming out of her ears? "How can you even say that, Ax? She saved your life!"

Ax immediately stiffened. Probably not the best thing to remind him of and she wouldn't have done it if she weren't so upset. {Against my will, if you'll remember.}

"I'm not going to apologize for saving your life," Cassie snapped. "It was five minutes and you can deal with it."

{I can but don't expect gratitude,} Ax said curtly. {And I'm not suggesting that we kill her because she violated me. I'm only saying that she's going to die anyway and if we kill her then we spare her the much worse death of Kandrona starvation.}

Cassie nodded, looking a little calmer. "It's not the only way, though."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "There's another way?"

Marco pinched the bridge of his nose like he was on the verge of getting a headache. "Oh, _please_ don't tell me…"

I shot him a curious look but he wasn't paying attention.

Cassie took a deep breath, looking suddenly nervous. "I was thinking, maybe, that Aftran could stay in m-"

"Rejected," Marco interrupted.

Cassie drew back, looking annoyed. "You can't just reject my idea."

"I can and I did," Marco said coolly. "And I'm telling you right now that that is just not going to happen."

"It's not your decision, Marco," Cassie said angrily.

"The hell it isn't," Marco disagreed. "If we're going to help Yeerks out and have a Peace Movement that knows who we are and thus has the power to destroy us if they're caught in their _very dangerous_ line of work then that's one thing. I cannot work with a Controller, though, and the risks are too great."

"What risks?" Cassie demanded. "It would just be my walking down to the Yeerk Pool every three days, letting Aftran feed, and then coming back to my normal life."

Marco shot an exasperated look at us all. "_Please_ tell me that I'm not the only one who sees some basic security concerns here!"

"You're not," I reluctantly confirm. I don't really want to upset Cassie but this is more important than that.

"Jake! Whose side are you on?" she demanded.

"I'm on the side of us staying alive and under the Yeerks' radar," I replied honestly. "Aftran going back to the Pool is really risky as it is. She was found once in the Pool and now she's going to be down there two or three times a week for a few hours? And then there's the fact that once people see you as a Controller you'll never be able to shake that. Other Yeerks will come up to you and want to know who's in your head and expect you to know things that you can't know and to participate in the invasion. Maybe they'll even try to reassign the Yeerk. You'll be _in_, Cassie, and you won't have any way of ever getting out."

"That won't happen," Cassie insisted.

"Can you guarantee that, Cassie? Because I'm sorry but I just don't think you can and the risk isn't just to you but to all of us," I said quietly.

"I can handle it," Cassie snapped.

"You say that I don't have a right to decide whether you're going to be a Controller or not?" Marco asked rhetorically. "Well I say that _you_ don't have a right to put _my_ life at risk and the life of everyone on this planet because you can't stand to see one slug die."

"Aftran is _not_ a slug!" Cassie protested.

"It doesn't even matter," Marco told her. "And I would kill her myself before I allowed you to screw everything up with this harebrained overly-sentimental scheme of yours."

Cassie froze. "You _wouldn't_."

"Just try me," Marco retorted. "Tell me, is anyone else willing to fight alongside Controller Cassie?"

There was a long silence.

"Guys?" Cassie asked, hurt, as she looked around at us all.

"I'm sorry, Cassie," Rachel told her finally. "But I just _can't_. I can't look at you and know that you're not really you anymore and pretend like nothing's changed."

"But nothing would have changed!" Cassie claimed. "I'd still be me and fully in control. It's just that Aftran would be there, too."

"But that's still wrong and I would never even know if it were really you any given second or not. Even if it was _always_ you I still wouldn't know and don't pretend like you wouldn't let Aftran use your body sometimes, especially when doing or talking about missions," Rachel told her.

"That sounds an awful lot like you don't approve of the Peace Movement, either," Cassie accused.

Rachel sighed. "Look, I think that the Peace Movement is a hell of a lot better than the alternative when it comes to Controllers but it's still better to be Yeerk-free. And all I agreed to was helping them, not liking them."

Cassie's disappointment was a terrible thing to see. "Tobias?"

{I'm never going to be a Controller,} Tobias said flatly. {I spend most of my time as a hawk, even in battle. If I get captured, they won't be able to infest me. I don't really have as much to lose here as everyone else but I've been to the Yeerk Pool and I was there more than anyone when Jake got infested. I've sacrificed as much as anyone for this war and I just can't get behind what you're suggesting. It sucks that Aftran will die otherwise but it's just not worth it.}

"Ax?" Cassie asked, turning to him. She looked almost afraid of his answer.

{I…have done a lot of things that my people would never approve of,} Ax said slowly. {I've taken responsibility for breaking the Law of Seerow's Kindness and I have actually been complicit in breaking in when it came to David. I've let a Yeerk go free knowing that she has the power to destroy us and seen that that wasn't a complete disaster. Just the same, actually serving with a Controller…I don't think I could do that. Not even if my Prince commanded it.}

Now Cassie turned her desperate eyes on me. "Jake?"

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how I could just add to the heartache. I don't really know how she thought that any of us would be on board with this but then Cassie's always been the type to ignore how things are in favor of how they _should_ be and normally I love that about her but sometimes it gets in the way of actually facing reality and she gets hurt.

"Cassie, I don't want Aftran to die any more than you do," I began. That wasn't actually true. I wasn't looking forward to her death by any means but it would be impossible to dread it more than Cassie was. "I've been a Controller, though, and I can't even begin to imagine that being okay. I'm sorry if it's just a failing of mine or whatever but I couldn't trust you if you were a Controller and if I can't trust you then you'd be worthless in this fight and there's too few of us as it is. We need everyone we have and we've already been over all the logistical problems."

"See?" Marco said, but there was no triumph in his voice.

Cassie looked like she was on the verge of tears. "What are we supposed to do, then? Just let her die? I promised her that I wouldn't do that."

{Cassie, I'm sure she's not expecting any miracles here,} Tobias told her.

Something Ax had said was still stuck in my head. If only I could figure out why.

"You guys say you can't live with me as a Controller," Cassie said softly, "well I can't live with Aftran gone. I just can't do that."

The last thing we needed was her quitting on us again. We needed something, but there wasn't anything…was there?

Then it hit me.

"David," I blurted out.

"David?" Rachel repeated, making a face. "What about him?"

"That's how we save Aftran," I explained. "David."

"You want to feed Aftran to David?" Rachel still didn't get it.

Ax did. {You wish to make her morph-capable.} His voice was devoid of any emotions.

I shook my head. "That's too risky, too. But I figure that if we make her a _nothlit_ then she lives and is free of the Yeerks and we're free of any sort of danger that she represents. I mean, if she wants to be a human or something she'll still have to worry about infestation but if she moves away then she won't be at risk for that until long after we fail."

Cassie was looking at me like I'd just hung the moon. It was a heady feeling.

Marco shrugged. "I can live with it. Let's just make sure that whatever species she picks won't be able to kill us all in case she really does go David's route."

"I'm sure she won't," Rachel assured him. "And if nothing else, she won't be able to demorph so we'll be fine."

{We're giving the morphing power to a **Yeerk**,} Ax repeated, this time sounded a little sick.

{Think of it as giving one particular Yeerk the power to become a _nothlit_,} Tobias suggested. {That's not really the same thing at all.}

{My people wouldn't agree,} Ax replied.

"Then maybe your people don't need to know," Marco told him. "Everyone would be a lot happier if they didn't, I'm guessing."

"So that's settled, then?" I asked. "All those in favor of Aftran becoming a _nothlit_?"

It had taken some doing (and Ax was going to be horrified when he realized that he'd given me the idea) but it was unanimous in the end.

If only we could be sure that this would work out better than it did before and we didn't have to get Cassie infested again to break the news to Aftran. Sure, Tobias or Ax could thought-speak it to her but then she wouldn't get to respond and it would make her choosing a species almost impossible.

Although, maybe…horses are still able to be infested, aren't they? What was the ethics on that?

Review Please!


	64. The Funeral

The Funeral

Disclaimer: I do own Animorphs.

I would have thought that attending Jake's funeral would have been one of the very worst things that I could ever have to do. In a perfect world (well, perfect except for the fact that my brother would be having a funeral) it would be.

I had never thought much about the idea of my brother having a funeral or being dead or, in fact, anything bad happening to him, until I got infested and then I couldn't _stop_. Some times I was more worried than others (when the first Yeerk had suggested killing Jake right after Elfangor died and when there was that whole mess about my Grandpa G's funeral, for example) but I was always worried.

I couldn't think of anything worse than Jake being killed or Jake being a Controller.

I just wasn't imaginative enough, I guess.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm glad that Jake's not dead or a Controller (I still can't decide which would be worse. The benefit of death is that you're free and don't have to be enslaved anymore or at all but the benefit – so to speak – of being a Controller is that one day you may be freed) but it's just so hard to think of 'glad' and 'Jake' in the same sentence, even when separated by a 'not.'

My brother is very much alive and, as far as I know, has never been a Controller. If he's lucky he'll never be one and I can't imagine that I won't hear of his death now that every Yeerk on the planet is gunning for him. I haven't been nearly that lucky and now my parents aren't, either.

It's been a week since my mom and dad were infested and this is the first time I've seen them since then. It will probably be the last as well. Not that it feels like they're here since they're as enslaved as I am, the Yeerks haven't spoken, and they won't even look at each other. Does this even really count as me seeing them?

Jake's having a funeral and we can't possibly miss it. The security is tighter than it was at the former Visser One's execution (which they crashed and then successfully absconded with the prisoner) because we all know that if Jake did want to do something reckless and make a play for getting us back then this is the only opportunity he'll have to go after everyone.

I'm sure he won't bother, though. I'm not sure about much when it comes to Jake anymore but if he didn't see the need to do anything for three years or even after he knew that we knew that they were human then why would he start caring now?

No, my brother is not dead. The Yeerks faked his death because he's off fighting them and stymieing their invasion at every turn. I should be proud of him. Hell, I _want_ to be proud of him. Who wouldn't be proud that their little brother is regularly bringing the Yeerk Empire to its knees?

It's inconceivable, really, that a sixteen-year-old and his sixteen-year-old friends are the ones responsible for all of this but it must be true. What's even stranger is that they were all _thirteen_ when this began.

The thing that stopping me from being as proud and thrilled for Jake as everyone else seems to be is the fact that he didn't do anything about me and now I _know_ that he knows. I saw him try to get our parents out (and maybe trying to get me out, too, but it's a little late for that) but he had so much time and did so very little. He could try to save the world and just left me to rot.

And now I'm here at his funeral.

Marco was 'gunned down' a few months ago with his father but now we know that Marco, at least, is alive and kicking. That explains why his mother was rescued (_she_ could be saved from the Visser's public execution but I couldn't from right down the hall) and why his father wasn't allowed to be infested. Marco, it seems, has much more of a vested interest in saving his family than Jake does and I'm sure that the three of them have reunited and are living blissfully. Marco's stepmother wasn't saved but then she doesn't fit into Marco's happy ending, does she? She never did.

Rachel and Cassie's families have 'moved away' but since we're all still here, Jake needed something else. Now he's 'dead' and he's killed himself. Pills, apparently. It would all be very sad if any of it were true.

{He'll be dead soon enough,} the Yeerk promised me. He was _not_ happy to be pretending to mourn someone who had nearly gotten him killed. {You're not happy either.} He checked my watch for the third time in five minutes. That was going to make him look insensitive to anyone who cared to look at me just then but the Yeerk didn't care.

{Why would I be happy? It's a funeral,} I replied.

{Your brother's not dead and he's off being a terrorist. Oh, sorry, 'freedom fighter',} the Yeerk corrected himself, sneering.

{He's also on the run and facing down this invasion practically by himself,} I pointed out.

{Oh, don't tell me you're trying to lie to me, human? You know it won't work,} the Yeerk said disgustedly.

{I do,} I agreed absently.

The Yeerk had given a eulogy not that long ago and he managed to make it through it while sounding appropriately sad which was really impressive if you consider how much he sincerely hated my brother right now. He spoke of how Jake was too young to die and how he was such a wonderful little brother even though most of what he said was a lie. Jake was young but not dead and if he was such a great little brother then he never would have…I need to stop fixating on this. It's not going to get me anywhere and I'm tired of agreeing with the Yeerk – however tangentially – on anything.

{I don't want my brother to die,} I said suddenly.

{No, you just don't want him out there living either,} the Yeerk said mockingly.

Does that make me a terrible person?

I hadn't addressed that to the Yeerk but, as per usual, he needed no invitation to respond to my thoughts.

{Yes, it does,} he said sadistically. {And a bit Yeerk-ish as well.}

Interesting that he felt the need to treat those two as if they were different.

{Not really because they are,} he informed me. {And it's not like you're half as terrible as your brother so there's always that.}

This funeral was a sham. A lot of the attendees were carrying concealed weapons just waiting for Jake and the others to try something and I knew that we – my parents and myself – would be murdered in cold blood before the Yeerks let them take us out of here. Even the genuine grief from some of the free people here was fake because the source of that grief was fake.

And yet…Jake would probably never get another funeral. He'd probably die in the war and no one would even know. Well, all the Controllers would but to the world at large he was already dead. The time to do the mourning was now before anything even happened to him.

Despite the sheer absurdity of Jake and the others being able to _win_, I can't really consider them dying. Him dying. I don't know what that means except that I'm not mourning for Jake's death. I guess, if anything, I'm mourning for the loss of the brother I thought I had. The brother who never could have stood up to the Yeerks for as long as he has but never would have left me here for so long, either.

{Are you really going to be dwelling on this forever?} the Yeerk asked, annoyed.

{It's only been a week!} I said defensively. It would be hard enough to cope with any of this just on my own but the Yeerk constantly picking at it isn't helping. As if any of this is _my _fault. I don't even know if my...situation had anything to do with Jake fighting the Yeerks in the first place. Probably not, given how things have worked out. And then, if I didn't have the Yeerk here and could think it through on my own then I wouldn't be in this situation, would I? Just another annoyance to be saddled with, I suppose.

{And yet you show no signs of stopping,} the Yeerk pointed out.

{How am I supposed to be sitting here at my little brother's funeral and _not_ be thinking about him?} I demanded.

{The funeral will be over soon. It has to be,} the Yeerk said, taking another glance at my watch.

{And then we'll go back to listening to everyone talking about Jake and the damage he's doing to your invasion,} I reminded him. {Kind of hard to avoid thinking about him when he's being shoved in my face all the time.}

{That won't be forever. It won't even be for much longer. Now that we know who he is-} the Yeerk started to say.

{What, you'll be able to take him down?} I asked derisively. {How? He and the others are out of your reach and knowing their identities won't make them any easier to kill than they have been for the past three years. In fact, I'd say that now your chances are as low as they've ever been since they have three years of experience now.}

{We still have you and your pathetic parents,} the Yeerk taunted.

{Oh yes, by all means resort to name calling.}

{It's not name calling if it's true,} the Yeerk insisted.

{Jake doesn't care about that. If he did then we wouldn't be here,} I said simply.

The Yeerk was quiet for a moment. {Maybe he doesn't care about _you_ but he was there for your parents. As long as we have them then there's no way he'll be able to hold it together and keep fighting.}

{Not everyone falls apart at the first sign of something bad happening,} I told him. {I may not like the fact that I don't matter to Jake anymore but it does mean that he was able to fight on. He'll probably do the same with our parents.}

{It's pathetic, isn't it, that what you're hoping for is your brother to write you all off completely,} the Yeerk opined.

{I'm hardly _hoping_ for it,} I snapped.

{I mean, I could almost feel sorry for you,} the Yeerk said condescendingly. {It was bad enough when nobody knew but now you find out that your own brother is willing to fight an entire war to save him planet and yet he cares more for all of those nameless faceless strangers than he does for his own brother. It must be terrible.}

I said nothing, trying not to let his words get to me. But after three years of living in my head, the Yeerk knows exactly what to say and I can feel them all hit their mark.

I don't want Jake to lose but I don't want to have to keep hearing about him either. I don't want to lose track of my parents again but I don't want to see them trapped like this either. I'm really not sure _what_ I want right now except to be free of the Yeerks.

And maybe to punch Jake.

Review Please!


	65. Consulting

Consulting

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: Juan is the name of a boy that Jake plays basketball with in #6.

There was a pep assembly going on and I don't even know why. Normally, I'd take this as yet another sign that my life is being consumed by this fight against the Yeerks (part of me feels guilty for resenting this as everyone the Yeerks steal – people like Tom – have their entire lives consumed immediately) except that I never did have much school spirit so I doubt I'd know why even were I a normal guy. Maybe a football game? That seems the most likely culprit.

As such, all of our classes were shorter and for the last hour and a half we couldn't leave the school grounds (not like many people, including Marco, chose to listen to that) but we didn't have to attend the pep assembly either. Rachel dragged Cassie to the assembly but I really didn't want to deal with that. Instead of the assembly, we could go to the gym and play basketball or sit around talking or we could go to the library and read or do homework.

I am forever falling behind on my homework and so I picked the latter option.

I had been working for maybe twenty minutes when Juan plopped into the seat next to me. Juan was a friend of sorts. We hung out together in school and occasionally did something outside of it but I didn't know if he was a Controller or not and that always put a bit of a damper on things. And even beyond that, it's hard to consider someone your friend if they don't know that you frequently kill people. Still, I did like him and we'd hang out more outside of school if I had more time and energy.

"Hey, Jake, I need your opinion about something," he said quietly.

I glanced at the librarian – she could be quite strict – but she wasn't paying attention. I guess even she didn't expect dozens of kids stuck in the library and prevented from getting home and starting the weekend to be perfectly quiet for an entire hour and a half.

"On what?" I asked, equally quiet.

"The Sharing," Juan replied. Well, of all the things I had been expecting, that was the last. I don't know why. Like I said, it seems my whole world is about the Yeerks in some form or another. If I'm not outright thwarting them then I'm planning to thwart them and even when I'm not doing that I hear about the Sharing everywhere I turn. I don't recall being this besieged by that cult before learning of the Yeerks but then I wouldn't have paid as much attention to it before. I remember being a little freaked out the day after meeting Elfangor with how many times I heard about the Sharing.

Still, I had actually been hoping to be consulted on something simple and silly and high school.

It wasn't to be, though. I might have known. It was probably for the best, too, as I'm not too good at normal high school things these days.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. "The Sharing? How many times do I have to say that I'm not interested? Do I need to start printing up cards that say 'I'll never join the Sharing' and handing them out whenever a member of the Sharing talks to me?"

Juan grinned. "Yeah, they are persistent. I like your idea but I'm not sure even that would be enough to deter them."

That caught my interest. "_Them_?"

"Oh, I'm not a member," Juan clarified.

"That's good," I said automatically. I mentally cursed myself for that but at least it wasn't anything incriminating. I really needed to get some more sleep.

"Is it?" Juan asked curiously. "Why?"

"Well if you're not a member then I think you're a bit less likely to try to make me a member," I quickly covered. I was getting good at that, at the plausible lie. It was useful but it also made me feel…not quite guilty but I didn't quite know how to describe it.

"Unless the Sharing was to start outsourcing its recruitment," Juan joked.

I laughed. "Nah, I think they have far too much fun with that themselves to ever let anyone else take that from them."

"Well they could recruit a lot more if they had both," Juan pointed out.

I made a face. "Shh! They might hear you."

"You don't like the Sharing?" Juan asked me curiously. I suppose it's good to know that my burning hatred for the Sharing isn't as obvious as I sometimes fear that it is. I wouldn't want to screw up and go too far and make myself a target, after all.

"I don't like the fact that they're so persistent, especially since my brother is a member and can feel free to prove to me just how persistent they are whenever he so chooses," I replied neutrally. Although, really, Tom never tried to recruit me. Shortly after the second Yeerk came (was it still the second Yeerk or had a third come? I had no way of knowing), he had stopped trying to get me involved. I wasn't sure why but I wasn't going to complain.

"I guess that answers my question then," Juan said, nodding to himself.

"What question?" I asked blankly. Had he asked a question. Had I answered it? This was probably nothing but I don't like not knowing what's going on. I never did, really, but now such carelessness had the potential to be lethal. _Please_ tell me I wasn't going to get us all killed because I hadn't been paying enough attention to this casual conversation with a classmate of mine.

"I was thinking about joining the Sharing," Juan informed me.

That meant he wasn't a Controller then. Interesting but ultimately irrelevant. That information wasn't even guaranteed to be accurate for any length of time as he might get infested today, tomorrow, or a month from now and I couldn't say anything suspicious around him anyway.

And maybe that information wasn't even true. Maybe there were Controllers who pretended that they were not affiliated with the Sharing just to ensnare those who opposed the Sharing. I didn't want to make myself look like I was particularly anti-Sharing just in case it made me a target.

I was supposed to get my homework done here so I could take a nap when I got home.

"And you decided to consult me because…?" I prompted.

"I can't expect a straight answer for any Sharing members," Juan explained. "They think that everyone should join the Sharing because it's the greatest club in the universe and therefore aren't very good at actually helping someone decide."

I shrugged. "Well, you can hardly blame them. They want people to go and they'd be pretty poor recruiters if they told people that maybe the Sharing wasn't right for them. Plus that might clash with their all-inclusive credo."

"Just the same, I know that you aren't a member but since Tom is I figured you'd know more about the Sharing but had also decided, for whatever reason, not to join," Juan said reasonably.

"Oh, I'd never have time for the Sharing. Don't believe what they tell you, I know that it's a _huge _time commitment," I cautioned. Bigger than he knew or that I could even imply since it was only your entire life but I thought that was a decent reason for not being involved. Not that I should even _need_ a reason not to join a club – even a Yeerk-run front of a club – but just in case.

"You never have time for _anything_," Juan said, rolling his eyes playfully. "What do you do all day?"

Don't panic.

"Marco is very high-maintenance," I deadpanned.

Juan laughed. "He must be."

"So why are you thinking about joining the Sharing?" I inquired. Asking someone why they were going to do something was much more sensible than asking them why they weren't going to do something.

Juan shrugged. "I've heard that they've got some amazing gym equipment there. Some of the events they put on are pretty cool and I've got some friends who are members. And then their community service stuff would look great on a college application."

"You sound pretty sure already," I remarked, taking care not to let my disappointment show in my voice. I never liked it when anyone fell for the Sharing's lies (if they stayed voluntary then it broke off a little piece of my faith in humanity and if they didn't then I figured they'd hate themselves for being the architect of their own destruction) but especially not a friend.

Juan made a face. "I know but…"

A flicker of hope.

"But what?" I asked carefully.

Juan shrugged again. "I don't know. It's just…I'm on the basketball team."

"Time commitment issues?" I guessed.

Juan shook his head. "Not even that. I've just noticed that athletes who join the Sharing have a tendency to quit their sport."

"Time commitment issues," I repeated.

"That's probably it. I know that basketball is practically my life and so, regardless of what anybody else chooses to do with their lives, it wouldn't make any sense for me to fall so in love with the Sharing that I'd quit but…it just seems like a bad omen, you know?" Juan asked, frowning.

I nodded. "I do. Tom used to be like that and then he joined the Sharing and I only found out that he quit a week afterwards because he forgot that he hadn't told me because he didn't see the big deal of it."

Juan whistled, earning a glare from the librarian. "Really? Tom? Even after all this time I still can't imagine it."

I smiled tightly. "Oh, trust me. I can't either and I was there."

"So you think that I should not join the Sharing then," Juan surmised.

I held up a hand. "I never said that."

"Surely you of all people aren't suggesting that I _do_ join it!" Juan exclaimed.

My eyes narrowed. "What do you _mean_ 'me of all people'?"

"Nothing really, just that you're not a member and you don't want to be so it would be weird if you were urging others to join," Juan answered.

"I'm just saying that you came to me to see if you should join the Sharing and you thought I would tell you not to do it," I told him. "Therefore, it sort of seems to me like you've already made up your mind."

Juan made a face. "I guess so. One of these days, Jake, you're going to have to actually come out and pick a side."

Oh, but I have. It was the only side that I could and it was of such a magnitude that I really didn't have room in my life for any more sides.

"Pick a side in what?" I asked innocently.

Juan threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know! Anything! Life!"

"Life has sides?" I asked.

"Only about a bazillion of them," Juan said, nodding solemnly.

"I _do_ pick sides," I claimed.

Juan shot me a skeptical look.

"I do!" I insisted. "But only when it's important. Then I can be downright fanatical."

Juan snorted. "Now _that_ I'd like to see."

I smiled. "Maybe someday you will."

But you're wrong about one thing: it won't be anything you'd like to see.

Review Please!


	66. Shock

Shock

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I've heard that Yeerks need to feed every three days but it's been just two and a half days since this nightmare started and I'm back at the Yeerk Pool.

_I can move. _

It had begun to feel like I would never be able to move again and now I can. It won't last, though. At some point (I don't know how long but I flinch every time one of the Hork-Bajir so much as walk past this cage I find myself in) the Yeerk will come back and I'll be trapped again.

I'm past the point where I keep waiting to wake up because it's been long enough that it can't possibly be a dream. When I do wake up from my actual dreams, however, I forget that the Yeerk is there for one blessed moment. It assures me that one day I'll get used to the way things are and will wake up fully aware of my newfound powerlessness. I don't know when that will happen but I'm not looking forward to it.

This has happened twice and neither time the Yeerk said anything to remind me any quicker, preferring instead to see how long it takes for me to realize that I can't move on my own. I'm always slow to wake up in the morning so it's taken me a few minutes. Waking up is quickly becoming my favorite part of the day even though I only ever set myself up for a fall.

The Yeerk insists, with his long experience controlling other people (he hasn't given me details but I get the feeling that he's never infested a human before), that one day the sensation of still feeling and experiencing everything but being unable to influence the world around me or even my own body will one day become completely normal. I don't believe that, though. I don't dare to.

The Yeerk is gone but I'm not free. My brother Jake has a dog and has had him for years. He's never had the heart to keep Homer in his cage unless our parents needed to take him to the vet. I always thought it was silly of him but now I understand completely and agree wholeheartedly with it.

There is nothing quite so dehumanizing as being thrown into a cage.

I tried to pay attention to what I could see even though the Yeerk, who has seen this all before, wasn't really looking around. Once I could move on my own, I looked around more, trying futilely to find some avenue to escape. I'd come to the conclusion that there wouldn't be any before I even got here but that didn't mean I was going to make it easy for them. It took three Hork-Bajir to drag me to this cage and even if it hurts I believe that it was worth it.

I wonder how long I'll hold onto that belief.

The weirdest thing is that I recognize some of the people here. No one in this cage (there are eight of us – all human – and the maximum number appears to be ten) but others. It isn't anyone I know well, just random kids from school or the Sharing. I think I see a news anchor. It's so surreal to have a bit of normality injected into this by seeing normal people.

Granted, I usually don't see these people crying or screaming or staring blankly but still. I still can't quite believe that I'm here and, despite being present now, I'm having a difficult time imagining myself here. I certainly can't imagine my parents or Jake.

The Yeerk can, of course, but they don't seem interested in the Sharing and I hope that the day never comes when they have to step foot in this hellhole.

"You're new here," a girl a few years older than me says suddenly.

I started. "What? How did-"

Had she seen the macabre parade that had taken place two days ago when they'd tied me up and dragged me down here to the Yeerk Pool? I hadn't been paying much attention at the time because I thought they were going to kill me (if only) and so I hadn't realized quite how big and well-developed it was. Or the fact that they apparently can't be bothered to use their own advanced alien construction equipment and are relying on human Caterpillars.

The girl managed a smile and it was more than I could do. "Your hands."

"My…" I glanced down and noticed that I was clenching and unclenching my hands. I stilled them.

"It's always like that at first," the girl explained. "People are so awed that they can move again that they spend this whole time doing that or something like that. I must say, the hand thing is far less annoying than pacing. But then, when is pacing ever _not_ annoying?"

"How long is 'this whole time'?" I asked her. I didn't want to know, exactly, but not knowing was freaking me out. Since I wasn't going to be happy either way I am as well be unhappy and have some sense of just how long this curious quasi-freedom was going to last.

The girl shrugged. "It varies, really. All the Yeerks really need is about an hour's worth but some enjoy the process more than others and take longer. They _can_ stay however long they want provided that it doesn't interfere with their duties or host's cover."

"I see." I wish I had a watch. But then, if I did then I'd probably do nothing but stare at it the entire time anyway. I've always hated not knowing what time it was but I've always hated having to wear a watch, too. A friend got me a pocket-watch once as a joke but it fell off of its chain ages ago. This waiting was better than having a Yeerk in your head but I got I already got the feeling that it was going to cause me no end of anxiety.

It occurred to me that I should probably introduce myself.

"I'm Tom," I told her.

She nodded. "Hello, Tom."

I waited but she said nothing. "And you are…?"

But she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

I frowned, not understanding how such a simple question could lead to such a response. Maybe I didn't want to know but at the very least I had to ask. Otherwise, I'd drive myself crazy wondering and I have enough things to worry about right now. "What do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Just that," she said simply. "It doesn't matter."

"Perhaps you could…clarify?" I requested. What was I supposed to think of her as? Maybe I wasn't supposed to think of her as anything. How could she even be like that? Was that common among hosts? I didn't want to find out but there's a good chance that I won't have a choice. That's going to be a running theme now, isn't it?

"I've been a Controller for two years now," the girl explained. "My story's probably not too different than most peoples'. Well, at least most people over on this side of the divide."

She glanced over to the other side of the Yeerk Pool, the side that I couldn't even bring myself to look at and could barely stand to think about. That was the side where the traitors were. As far as I was concerned, it didn't matter what their reasons were. I didn't care what they were promised or threatened with or even if they were protecting someone else. It didn't even matter if they had been involuntary and just couldn't take it anymore and were trying to salvage at least _something_ about their situation by having a better feeding experience.

All that mattered was that they were cooperating with the people who were enslaving us all and were intent to do that to the other six billion people on this planet.

At least the screams drowned out the laughter. How they can enjoy themselves among such misery, no matter how they feel about their own situation, is beyond me and just further goes to show that they are all terrible, terrible people.

I wondered if this girl was going to tell me how she had become a Controller when she wouldn't even give me her name.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," she told me. Evidently not then. "And now though people use my name they're never talking to me. Not really."

"They're _all_ talking to you," I argued. "Well, all but the other Controllers. They don't even know about the Yeerk so how could they not?"

"Because it's been two years since any of them spoke to me so whether they knew it or not they weren't talking to me," the girl said calmly. "And so it doesn't matter who I am, just who the Yeerk is. Threshner 247."

"That's…awful," I said, horrified.

The girl shrugged. "Is it? One day you may feel the same."

"I'll _never_ feel that way!" I swore.

Another small smile. "It's early days."

"If you feel that way then why are you even over here?" I demanded, gesturing around me.

"I said it was the case, not that I approved," she said, somewhat stiffly. "Listen, Tom…you're going to have to find a way to survive here. None of it's ever going to get any better and it may indeed get worse. And even if it doesn't that still leaves you with an eternity of _this_ and it'll all get to be too much one of these days. If you can't find a way to adapt then you're going to end up like _him_." She nodded to an older man sitting silent and unmoving in the corner of the cage, eyes staring straight ahead but clearly seeing nothing.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "Oh, why not? You'll soon learn that just because something is terrible doesn't mean it's not dreadfully boring and I really don't have anything better to do until he's done feeding."

That didn't make any sense. How could something terrible also be dull? It was just so paradoxical. "He? You mean your Yeerk? It's a boy Yeerk?"

"Yeerks don't have proper genders," the girl explained. "People usually refer to them as the gender of their hosts but he's taken everything else so why should he get to have my gender, too? Yeerks themselves usually don't care."

The Yeerk in my own head had complained when I called him 'it' but I hadn't gotten the sense that it was really _that_ big of a deal.

"Oh, looks like your time is up," the girl said disinterestedly. "Good luck, I suppose."

There was a Hork-Bajir approaching the cage but it looked like every other time one had walked past. "How can you tell?"

"After awhile you just get a feel for the way things work," she explained.

Uncertainly, I watched as the Hork-Bajir continued to walk towards the cage. My heart sped up as he did indeed stop in front of this cage and open the door.

I wasn't ready. I was never going to be ready but I especially wasn't ready now. I moved to the back of the cage.

The Hork-Bajir barked out a command and another Hork-Bajir joined him. They opened the cage and dragged me back to hell.

Review Please!


	67. Moving Out

Moving Out

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_I bought a house for my folks and finally moved out on my own. Tom was gone. My hanging around my parents' house till I was thirty wasn't going to bring him back._

_-Animorphs #54._

Everything was packed and technically nothing was keeping me here but I still lingered in the kitchen. Maybe if I stayed here long enough I could just forget about the whole thing and pretend that so very many things simply weren't real. It was impossible, of course, but the impulse to try remained. I would have thought I'd be done with vain hopes by now but I can see now that that was itself a vain hope.

I was moving out of my parents' home and into my own place and, in a way, this was a refreshingly normal rite of passage. Only in a way, however. Like everything – or nearly everything – that had happened me since that fateful night I took a galaxy-altering shortcut through that construction site so very long ago (four years wasn't so long depending on how you looked at it. It was one presidential term, for instance, but it felt like eternity to me), it wasn't entirely normal.

The differences were obvious. The first difference was the fact that _I _was doing it and apparently anything I do, no matter how mundane, isn't the same as when 'normal' people do it. Even going for a drive in my car.

I don't have to worry about gas prices and my first car wasn't one that my parents bought me. Perhaps that's not so strange but I had no car payments as I didn't even have to buy it myself (though I could have fully paid for it).

No, instead the company just gave it to me. Partly out of gratitude, I suppose, but I wasn't so naïve as to think that it had nothing to do with publicity. Jake the Animorph drives a Jaguar. And most kid's first car is something crappy and second-hand that maybe didn't always start up right away or had a broken heater. My car was read and shiny and pristine.

I knew that Marco would kill me if I turned it down and I wasn't so far gone that I didn't want it. It was the ultimate symbol of freedom and only flying makes you feel more liberated. But I don't really morph anymore so the car will have to do.

I just wish that it wasn't a _Jaguar_, though. I never saw it but Tom – the Yeerk in his head – had told me that he could morph one. I didn't say anything, though, just forced a smile and accepted it.

Everyone moves out eventually but unless they have a horrible home life or are a trouble teen or the family can't afford them then it's usually done sooner than eighteen and sometimes, depending on their finances and schooling, some years later.

I'm seventeen right now and I'm not going off to college anytime soon. Maybe I will later but I'm just not feeling it right now and I don't want to waste anyone's (including my own) time or anyone's money if I'm not going to appreciate it. My home life isn't bad and it's been _so good_ to have my parents back this past year after all those weeks of fearing that I'd never see them again. I don't' think I'm a 'troubled teen' either and if anyone disagrees then, well, I have cause.

The thing is that I don't want to be one of those pathetic thirtisomethings living in their parents' basement. Seventeen is a long way away from that but I doubt I'll ever really _want _to leave. There's no difference in leaving today and leaving never so why put it off?

And unlike most kids who move out and into a dorm or a crappy apartment, I'm moving into a nice house that I've paid for with money that people have just sort of thrown at me for that book that I wrote. Well, I guess I might as well get something out of saving the world since I didn't manage to get anything that I really wanted out of this war. Not that this really mattered, either.

I bought my parents' new house, too, and that's another difference. Not everyone moves out of a beloved childhood home but enough do. I had always sort of thought that I would, too, (in the time before I'd accepted that I'd die before I got the chance to grow up) but it just wasn't to be.

I would miss seeing my parents every day but the house itself? I was rather indifferent to it, actually, and could almost say that I disliked it. There was nothing wrong with this house but it's just not _mine_.

My real house was destroyed by the Yeerks on the day that they stole my parents from me and killed any realistic prospect of saving my brother. Every mark on the wall from playing basketball inside the house or the timeline of how tall we were was gone. Every little quirk like the door to my parents' bedroom that sometimes had hinge issues was eradicated. Things that I _never_ thought that I'd miss like those bushes that always grew too far out during the warmer months and made it damn near impossible to go out our front door still found their way into my thoughts from time to time.

This new home was brand-new and it had not only none of our history but no one else's either. I know why we couldn't go back to our own, destroyed house and that losing it wasn't even a priority when compared to everything else but it was just one more bit of the past that the Yeerks had been determined to take from me and I resented it.

Tom had never stepped foot in this new house, had never even heard of it. He never would and that alone made the three of us living here just too much. I had thought that maybe one day when he was off at college or something it might just be the three of us, not when he was _dead. _Maybe it will be easier for my parents to not have me around as a reminder and they can pretend they're just nice and normal empty nesters and our lives haven't been trying their hardest to turn into a tragedy.

I doubt it but I don't want the guilt of devastating my parents by leaving on top of everything else.

My mom poured me another cup of coffee. I don't even like coffee but I can appreciate that it's just the excuse to keep the gathering going. "Are you sure you have to go?" she asked again.

I sighed. My parents – both of them – had been asking me this every day since the war ended and I found them again. It usually wasn't verbal but I could feel the weight of their question anyway. No, I suppose technically I didn't _have _to go but it was the decision I'd made and I was going to stick to it. Besides, wasn't it 'healthier' to do something instead of just lounging around? I know everyone's so very concerned about _that_.

To their credit, though, no one has actually brought up the idea of a shrink. I've thought about it myself but never seriously. Even excluding my negative experience with that shrink I had to go to following Ax's attempts at being me that time I got infested, I know that no psychiatrist in the world could possibly understand what I'd been through and what I had done and so they wouldn't be able to help me. Not that I really need help, exactly. It's just…complicated.

"I already bought the house," I reminded them. "And most of my things are over there."

"I know," my mom said, looking wistful. "It's just…my baby's all grown up."

I smile like I know I should and don't mention that as far as growing up goes this is probably one of the things that made the least impact on me doing it. I grew up a great deal over the years. The first time I killed somebody. The first time I saw Tobias trapped. The first time I asked myself if I could ever kill my brother. The time I lost control of everything. The first time I could kill someone and feel no guilt over it. The first time I got us all killed. The first time I realized that my friends – my own cousin! – had become tools to be used. The first time I knew that, if it came to it, I _could_ destroy my own brother. The first time I realized that my incompetence meant that my parents were lost to me. The first time I decided who was going to die to win this war. When I watched Rachel kill Tom mere minutes before being murdered herself by someone she had already beaten but had had the chance to remorph while she had not. Compared to that, what was changing my address? And it wasn't like I hadn't already lived apart from them with Marco's family.

"We always knew that this day would come," my dad said, trying to be stoic but I could tell that he didn't want me to go either. It's not like I wanted to leave, either. It just felt like something that I had to do.

"You guys are acting like you're never going to see me again," I complained, rolling my eyes. Trying to figure out what to say to dispel some of the melancholy in the air.

"Well, you never know," my dad replied seriously. "You're moving right next door to Marco, right?"

"If by 'next door' you mean 'half a mile away' then yeah, I suppose so," I confirmed. "I am the closest house to his."

"I've heard the stories of what he gets up to these days and if he starts dragging you into things like he always does then it might be _months_ before we even hear from you," my dad actually managed to joke.

Of course, while Marco had always dragged me into things when we were younger, when it mattered – with the war – it had been me leading the way.

"I'm sure Jake's security will let us in when we stop by to make sure that he still remembers us," my mom said dryly.

I groaned. "I forgot about the _security_."

"Well I'm sure you'll grow to appreciate it in time," my mom said optimistically. "Soon you probably won't even notice that it's there at all."

"I can't even imagine," I admitted, shaking my head.

"Ask Marco," my dad advised. "I'm sure he can tell you."

I nodded absently. It was subtle and hard to define but I knew that it was time to stop stalling. The moment had come.

My parents didn't let me go without at least a dozen hugs and kisses between them and a few parting words. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Awkward, mostly, with a large serving of guilt. But what else was new? And since they'd never have this chance with Tom, I couldn't ruin it for them with me. There were a lot of normal experiences they'd never get to have with Tom that I knew that I could never give them, after all.

Then I was back in my car and staring up at the house that I'd called my dwelling (it could never be a home and I doubt this new place will be either) and felt nothing.

Review Please!


	68. Questionable Miracles

Questionable Miracles

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Saddler was sitting up in his bed. He looked as healthy as if he'd just stepped in from playing soccer. _

"_How?" Saddler's father asked. _

_The doctor just shook his head. "You tell me. There is apparently nothing wrong with your son. And I mean nothing. No broken bones – all healed. No internal injuries. No bruises, for crying out loud!" _

"_It's a miracle!" Jakes' mom whispered. _

"_I don't even believe in miracles," Jake's dad said, "but this is a miracle. I mean, I saw him yesterday and he looked like raw hamburger." _

_-Animorphs #22. _

Am I a terrible person for not being more concerned about Saddler? I'm trying to be but I haven't seen him for so long and this is such a nice human tragedy that it was hard to focus on that given the much larger and more pressing threat of the Yeerks infesting the world leaders at that summit.

Rumor has it that one leader is already infested but I know better. Those not directly involved in the project – like my Yeerk – were told that there was already a Controller to prevent a traitor (I still can't get used to the idea of a traitor Yeerk and whether it's a good thing or not) or an Andalite from trying to upset their plan by warning the leaders because there was a risk they'd approach the wrong one. It was surprisingly clever for the Visser so chances are that it wasn't his idea.

But even considering how much of a disaster it would have been if things had gone the way the Yeerks had hoped (and the Andalites hadn't decided to pull a Visser Three and just smash everything in sight), that shouldn't mean that I don't worry. Now that the world leaders are safe for now, the guilt over my previous lack of concern is hitting me full force.

{If it makes you feel any better, I don't think this makes you a terrible person,} the Yeerk offered. {We were busy and Saddler's misfortune is only his own fault. If a truck is coming and you're on a _bike_, you get out of the way or you die. Survival of the fittest and whatnot.}

Surprisingly, the Yeerk's vote of confidence did not help and just made it worse. Ten to one, the Yeerk that that it would. He was most certainly a terrible person regardless of whether I was or not. At least I could take some small measure of comfort in the fact that he was far worse than I could ever be. Not much because he is _really _bad. It's like saying that you're not so bad because you're not serial killer bad, really. That might be true but that doesn't automatically mean much.

{It would seem that I am doomed to be judged harshly no matter how I behave,} the Yeerk complained melodramatically. He didn't actually _care_, of course, but he never passed up an opportunity to complain, even if it was about me complaining. I had never truly understood what 'the pot calling the kettle black' meant before getting infested and I really hadn't wanted to. {You're giving me _zero_ incentive to treat you well.}

{You're enslaving me,} I responded curtly. {That makes it _impossible_ for you to treat me well.}

{As you like…}

{I bet you really loved hearing about Darwin,} I muttered.

{Oh, I did,} the Yeerk confirmed. {It perfectly encapsulates our polices and if humans themselves believe in survival of the fittest and we prove to be the most fit then we should have a much easier time with them.}

{Can you not use 'we' when referring to Yeerks?} I requested politely. {I'm human.}

{I know, I know,} the Yeerk said disinterestedly, having just spotted a crowd around my cousin Saddler's hospital bed as we walked into the room. {Is he finally dead? _Please_ tell me he's finally dead. This is such a waste of time.}

{You're terrible,} I accused.

{You already thought that and he's going to die _anyway_, everyone knows that,} the Yeerk said patiently. {Your primitive species hasn't the medical technology to heal him. What's the point of him languishing and wasting so much time, energy, and resources?}

It was hard to argue with such cold and unsentimental statements but I made a valiant attempt anyway.

{He might not die,} I ventured.

The Yeerk laughed at me. {You don't believe that.}

{I don't have to,} I said stubbornly. {It's still a valid possibility.}

{I don't know about 'valid'…}

There was a break in the crowd and I suddenly saw Saddler. I had seen him just the day before and he truthfully hadn't seemed long for this world. If all of those medical personnel were gathered around him because he had flat lined and they were attempting to revive him then I wouldn't have been surprised but that wasn't the case.

Saddler was clearly still breathing on his own and even sitting up.

And that wasn't all. Saddler was still wearing a hospital gown but aside from that you wouldn't have taken him for a patient. His skin was no longer almost completely covered in bruises or worse. In fact, I couldn't see any noticeable injuries at all and _no one_ heals that quickly. Paper cuts don't heal that quickly! He seemed to be feeling fine as he had a tolerantly annoyed and slightly bored look on his face as everyone pinched and prodded at him.

"I don't even believe in miracles," my dad said, "but this is a miracle."

I don't believe in miracles, either, and I hold that belief far more firmly than my father, apparently, because I know that this – whatever this is – is no miracle.

{This is impossible!} the Yeerk protested. {Humans simply do not heal this quickly. Even our technology would not allow such a perfect recovery so quickly. Bruises would still remain. And if we had done this then we would have put it in terms of an experimental new surgery or drug or _something_. And he doesn't even live close enough that he could readily access the Yeerk Pool! This is impossible!}

{And yet somehow it happened,} I remarked. {You sound like the doctors.}

The Yeerk predictably bristled at being compared to humans. Even favorable comparisons irk him.

Saddler's doctor, Dr. Kaehler, was located then and told the tale of Saddler's miraculous recovery. It was basically "He was about to die, in the elevator everyone mysteriously lost consciousness, and then Saddler was fine. Yeah, we don't get it either."

"Unbelievable," Jake muttered.

The Yeerk automatically turned to face him. That word was getting thrown around a lot as Saddler's parents descended on him and everyone else just marveled at this unexplained phenomenon. Jake hadn't said it the way that everyone else had said it, though. And the look on his face was almost annoyed. I know that he really didn't like Saddler (and, formerly dying or not, the guy was kind of a brat) but that shouldn't mean that he's not happy about his recovery. Jake's really not that bad of a person. In fact, he's the best damn person I know. That's why it's so important that the Yeerks stay the hell away from him so that he can _stay_ that way. They have the most pervasive corrupting influence and twist everything that they touch.

"What?" the Yeerk asked.

Jake started, looking as if he had completely forgotten that anybody else was there. "Oh, nothing," he assured me. "It's just…this is pretty crazy, right?"

"So it is," the Yeerk agreed, quickly losing interest and allowing Jake to retreat back towards the wall so he wouldn't have to take part in the celebration. Strange. I mean, even _I_ was vaguely happy that Saddler was alive even though this was incredibly suspicious (though of what I don't know) so why wouldn't Jake be? Are conspiracy theories dancing through his head?

{He's right about one thing,} the Yeerk said grimly, probably just as irritated that he'd had to admit that Jake was right about something as he was about this whole situation. {This is unbelievable.}

{'Why do you doubt your senses?'} I quoted. {Or rather, mine.}

If the Yeerk could role my eyes and not be accused of not being happy for Saddler, he totally would have. {Because this _can't be happening_.}

{Maybe if you keep saying that then the universe will realize that your right and Saddler's injuries will magically reform before my eyes and he'll just croak,} I suggested. {Oh, but wait…that would be impossible too, wouldn't it?}

{Yes but at least the end result would be what it should be,} the Yeerk countered. {I've only ever even heard of _one thing_ that can heal injuries this quickly. And that would be impossible, too, but as this whole thing is impossible this makes as much sense as anything.}

{What are you even talking about?} I asked warily.

{I haven't seen it myself but according to the intelligence obtained by Visser Three, when an Andalite is injured and they morph then they are completely healed,} the Yeerk revealed.

I was stunned. {Are you…are you _honestly_ suggesting that the Andalites – famed throughout the galaxy as never be willing to tell anyone or give anyone anything – would somehow seek out my dying cousin and give him the power to morph? Why would they do that? And don't you have to be conscious to morph?}

{Well, I _did_ say it was impossible,} the Yeerk snapped. {But that's only one theory.}

{There's another?} I asked incredulously.

{There's the possibility that that's not even Saddler,} the Yeerk told me.

{Of course it's Saddler! Who else could it be?} I demanded.

{An Andalite. Or maybe David,} the Yeerk said thoughtfully, as if he had just remembered him. {We know that for some reason the Andalites gave him the power to morph. Or perhaps, since the morphing cube was in his possession, he acquired t before he met them. He's missing a family and your aunt and uncle are missing a son.}

{Would that even work?} I asked, uncertainty. It was still impossible but less so than the first theory.

{It should. Injuries usually don't change one's DNA so as long as he was acquired before he died,} the Yeerk replied.

{Then what would have happened to the real Saddler?} I wondered.

The Yeerk gave a mental shrug. {Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe dropped down an elevator shaft to be retrieved and disposed of later.}

{But how would David have even known about my cousin?} I demanded.

{Who knows? Maybe he was just hanging around the hospital looking for someone's life to steal,} the Yeerk suggested.

I snorted. {That sounds almost judgmental.}

{It's not,} the Yeerk insisted.

{I suppose theoretically that _could_ have happened but…really? Can you really see that as having happened?} I asked.

{Well…no. But I can't see _any_ rational explanation here so all we're left with are crazy theories,} the Yeerk told me.

{Maybe it really was a miracle,} I said but I didn't believe it.

{If it _was_ a miracle and such things existed then why would it have been wasted on one dying teenager instead of, say, saving your people?} the Yeerk smugly voiced my own doubts.

{I don't know. None of this makes any _sense_,} I complained. I vaguely noticed Rachel breaking off from the celebration to go stand by Jake.

{I agree. But it will,} the Yeerk said determinedly. {I've got my eye on Saddler and I won't stop until I figure out _exactly_ what's been going on here.}

Review Please!


	69. Free Again

Free Again

Disclaimer: I do not Animorphs.

_The glow faded, little by little. I was trembling._

"_It's over, Jake," Cassie said. ._

_I rose slowly to my feet. I moved my own legs. I was in control of myself again. I looked down on the wooden floor of the shack. A gray slug, not six inches long, lay there…still. As we watched, it withered and shriveled and became nothing._

_-Animorphs #6._

We sat in silence for a while. Despite all the many things I had to think about (Who was Seerow? I had seen a reference to him and the Andalites. If he was a male, I wasn't even really sure on that. Had Ax successfully fooled my parents and the new Yeerk in my brother? What was I going to do about Tom? Were my friends going to treat me differently?), the only thing I could really seem to focus on was that giant eye thingy.

What was that? Some sort of a hallucination brought about by the death of a living creature inside of my head? Well, near-death. I doubted it could have left my head post-death. And very considerate of it to have done so, too, because I doubt having a dead Yeerk in my brain would have done me any favors. A hallucination seemed the most likely scenario and not even something to worry about as the cause seemed clear. And was the alternative? That this was actually some sort of higher power that was interested in me for some reason? Yeah, I'd rather accept the hallucination explanation.

I'm not sure what Cassie was thinking. Was she just so overcome with relief that they had succeeded in saving me? Was she trying to give some space now that I was finally alone in my own head to come to some sort of terms with what happened before she started asking questions? Was she trying to see the difference between me-me and Controller me? Was she just lost in thought?

Cassie eventually broke the silence when she exclaimed, "Oh!" She let go of my hand – I had barely even noticed that she still had it – and stood up. She moved around behind me and started untying the ropes.

"Thank you," I told her.

It had only been three days.

That really wasn't very long by any stretch of the imagination. Unlike Mr. Chapman, I hadn't forgotten how to speak properly or anything like that. Still, just the fact that I _could_ say it. I tried so hard to say _anything_ while the Yeerk was there but I just couldn't break through, not for a single second. I couldn't even break through long enough to jerk or something and just further prove to my friends that they were right and doing what they had to do no matter how much it looked like I was protesting.

I just couldn't do it, though. I guess my need wasn't great enough. It just made what I'd seen Tom do for me and what Rachel told me the Chapmans had done for their daughter all that more impressive. I didn't know how much effort it had taken to slip through but it was more than I had been able to muster. I tried not to feel bad about that, about the fact that if Ax hadn't noticed I might have watched helplessly as the Yeerk bid my friends goodbye and ran running straight to Visser Three. It hadn't happened so it didn't matter. No one could blame you for what you did while a Yeerk was controlling your actions, after all. Well, no one with any _sense_ could.

And now the words required no effort at all. I didn't have to really consciously think 'Say thank you.' I just wanted to thank her and so I did. It was _wonderful_.

"I should have thought of it earlier," Cassie said distractedly. "I mean, I guess I was waiting for you to say something but you shouldn't have had to have been tied up for one second longer than you absolutely had to be."

I shook my head as the ropes fell away. "No, that wasn't what I meant. Well, that too, I guess, but I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

Cassie came back around in front of me and offered me her hand again to help me stand up. I tried not to think about how she had offered the Yeerk that same hand and he had taken it to try to toy with her emotions. I wonder if it worked. At any rate, she stayed strong enough to save me. Three days isn't enough time to forget how to walk but I had been sitting for far too long and appreciated the assistance. With her help, I rose shakily to my feet and took a few halting steps. Yeah, I'd need to wait for the circulation to come back but I was sure that I had time.

Cassie smiled encouragingly at me. "You don't need to thank us, Jake. Even without the risk that the Yeerk posed to us, we _never_ could have just left you there to that."

"I know," I told her. "I do. If I hadn't then these last few days would have been even harder than they already were."

"You could hear us then?" Cassie asked quizzically. "We were _hoping_ but we were never quite sure, you know? We don't have much experience with infestation, thankfully."

I nodded. "Yes, I could. I could see and hear everything that was going on."

Cassie shivered. "How dreadful. I'm sorry we didn't realize sooner."

"You realized eventually and that was what mattered," I said firmly. "You were a bit preoccupied and one of us being infested is not exactly the kind of thing that we wanted to think about."

"Yeah but that doesn't feel like it's good enough," Cassie said, wrapping her arms around herself. I wanted to comfort her but I just didn't know how. "I guess all we can do is plan for the future, though. The next time any of us has our head make contact with a Yeerk Pool – no matter how long or short – we're doing this again. It doesn't even really matter if they're actually a Controller or not because we have to be prepared."

"Agreed. I just hope it's not Ax next time because I don't think any of us has any idea of how to tie up an Andalite," I said seriously.

Cassie shrugged. "Tranquilizers?" she suggested. "We can ask Ax. I doubt he'll want to consider the possibility but he should still answer. Let's just hope it doesn't come up again."

"I'm actually a little surprised you didn't know for sure that I still knew what was going on," I told her. "I mean, Elfangor told us that 'if the need was great enough' involuntary hosts could rebel against their Yeerks and we've seen a bit of that ourselves. Chapman even had a talk with Visser Three about how he didn't want Melissa infested!"

Cassie blinked at me. "You're right. Well, we did mostly assume you could hear us anyway."

"So how did Ax do pretending to be me?" I inquired, not sure that I really wanted to know. I mean, I have faith in Ax and everything but at the same time…well, he's very knew to human morph and things like eating and verbally speaking still sometimes overwhelmed him. I had to know, however, because my family wasn't just going to agree to pretend that it had never happened.

Cassie smiled awkwardly.

"That bad, huh?" I asked, making a face. All of my worst fears were frantically trying to confirm themselves and I took a few deep breaths, trying not to panic until I found out more about what was happening. It wouldn't do to have Ax just have been a little weird and then trip all over myself trying to make up for a weirdness that hadn't happened and just worry everyone even more.

"I didn't say that," Cassie pointed out.

"You didn't say that he did well, either," I reminded her.

"Well it's hard to say," Cassie explained. "He said that he did fine and Tom clearly didn't realize that he was an Andalite because the Yeerks haven't done anything. It's just…"

"Ax's definition of 'fine' and a normal human's definition of 'fine' might not necessarily line up," I supplied.

Cassie nodded. "Yes, that's exactly it!"

We were quiet for a moment. I was wondering what, exactly, the consequences of Ax pretending to be me for three days would be (hopefully he was only around as often as he absolutely had to be) and Cassie appeared to be gearing up to say something.

"Are you alright?" she finally blurted out.

"Am I alright?" I repeated, puzzled.

"I'm sorry, I know that's a stupid question," she apologized. "I mean, you were just a Controller for three days and that must have been a harrowing experience on its own. Then the Yeerk kept trying to escape and wanting to kill us and we threatened to kill you, too. And I know you got no sleep last night while the Yeerk was dying and I'm sure that _that_ couldn't have been fun either and…I'm sorry."

I managed a smile then, my first since this whole mess had started. "Cassie, it's fine. That's a perfectly appropriate question, I swear."

Cassie looked me over searchingly. "So…are you, then? Alright, I mean?"

I considered the question. Was I alright? Well the Yeerk was dead but she could see that. I now understood hosts far better than I had ever wanted to but that might help remind me why I was fighting in case I ever needed reminding (I doubt I would but we had only been at this for such a short time). I would probably have nightmares about this every night for the foreseeable future.

"About as alright as can be expected," I said finally.

Cassie's face fell but she didn't look surprised.

"I _will_ be okay," I promised her. "Especially after I get some breakfast and maybe take a nap. Oh, and a shower! I haven't had one since Friday and I'm feeling _really_ gross."

"Fortunately there's no school today so there's no reason why you can't go right home and do that," Cassie said, smiling. "As far as getting infested goes, you picked a good time for it with us having yesterday and today off."

"Because that was exactly what I was thinking at the time," I deadpanned. I looked around. "Where's everyone else?"

Cassie waved a hand. "Oh, they're waiting outside. They didn't want to crowd you, you know?"

"And I'm sure that they didn't want to see me like that, either," I said a little morosely.

"Only because they love you," Cassie said firmly. "And it's over now. You just need to keep reminding yourself of that."

I nodded. She was right and sooner or later – preferably sooner – I'd believe her. I'd go out and face the others in a minute but I still wanted a little more time alone with Cassie first.

"Do you know," I said slowly, "what the most annoying thing about this whole ordeal was?"

Cassie shook her head, looking uncertain as to where I was going with this.

"The Yeerk actually tried to blame the Visser's questionable mental state on _me_," I complained.

Cassie let out a startled laugh at that and it felt like that was the first step on the road back to normal.

Review Please!


	70. It Didn't Happen

It Didn't Happen

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_Your mom says they medevaced Tom all the way back to the hospital back home," my father said, plopping down in a chair. "It seems he has a complex break and our hospital's the only one in the area equipped to deal with it." _

"_No kidding," I said, not at all surprised._

"_He's in some pain and he'll be laid up for a while but at least he's gonna e okay," my father said thickly. He reached over and hugged me. "Thank God you got there in time to save him, Jake." _

_-Animorphs #31. _

I don't think I've ever been in more pain than this.

The first few times I was infested it gave me the most obnoxious headache but the Yeerk also secreted liberal amounts of painkiller (likely just so they wouldn't have to deal with the pain of their own entrance once they were in control) so it wasn't so bad. Well, it was but the physical pain could have been worse. And overt time – both to my relief and horror – infestation became less painful. I mean in a strictly physical sense, of course, because really being a Controller gets worse by the day.

I don't enjoy pain, largely because I'm not crazy. But I _am_ grateful for this pain…or at the very least for what it represents. I had been trying – and failing – to stop my hands from re aching for that dagger so that the Yeerk couldn't murder my father when it happened. Even had I succeeded, unless I had managed to fling the dagger into the lake then my actions would only buy my father a few, precious seconds. And even _if _the dagger was out of the picture (and my Jewish father wasn't killed by his wife's grandfather's commandeered Nazi dagger) that wouldn't stop the Yeerk from finding a way to…

But it didn't happen. _It didn't happen_. I need to focus on that.

A freak accident and I almost drowned and my leg may as well be on _fire_ and I got my miracle after all.

The rest of my family has no idea, of course. They were talking about the 'near tragedy' and I'll agree that it was at that but the dock collapsing was what averted the tragedy and not the source of it.

And my father is fine. Jake is too and he was the one who actually saved my life. I wish that he hadn't but he didn't know and so I can't blame him. It's not like he's leaving me to this on purpose. The Yeerk had been being unbearably condescending earlier in the evening (and even bringing out his real opinions, for a change, so preoccupied was he with plotting my father's death) and yet there he was.

He had almost witnessed our father's murder at my unwilling hands and would have been greatly traumatized forever or maybe worse if the Yeerk had noticed his presence. And he had stayed with me. The Yeerk hadn't wanted to put even a minimal effort into pretending to be me – like they would have expected much from him then – due to the annoyance of not only having his plan fail but knowing how long I'll be…defective.

Still, Jake refused to leave. That simple act cut through all the pain and fear and horror and touched me, really touched me.

I knew that him staying was dangerous because the Yeerk was desperate and angry at the world and that the person he thought he was staying with didn't deserve it but a part of me was glad that he was there anyway. As sometimes happens, my need not to be left alone with the Yeerk won out over my fear for Jake's safety.

And when Jake left, when the helicopter arrived to save the Yeerk by sending us home, my mother came with me. Despite how the Yeerk felt about this, I'm glad that they're not leaving me alone. I'm even more glad that my father isn't around, though. I know that he should be out of danger and that they Yeerk would be hard-pressed to kill anyone _now_ but either way…It's easier having Mom here than Jake, too, because I never had to worry about her dying in this because she was safely up at the lake. I wonder how long it will be before I can put this behind me. If I ever can.

The middle of the night isn't exactly when visiting hours are but the nurse had taken one look at my mother's face and let her stay.

It was three in the morning but she didn't look like she'd be sleeping anytime soon. I was both exhausted and wide-awake but I knew that it didn't even matter because I'd go to sleep when the Yeerk decided that it was time.

"It's okay, Mom," the Yeerk said gently, probably hoping that if he calmed her down then she'd leave faster. There are times when I wonder if he's even capable of basic human - so to speak - compassion but most of the time I don't have to wonder. I wouldn't have thought I'd have any optimism left in me but, well, I'd heard once that there could be no true despair without hope. Where was that? Not that it even matters.

"I know," my mom said shakily. "I do. I just can't help thinking about what might have happened."

Neither can I although I'm sure that my imaginings are a bit more horror-laden than hers are. The only possibility that she could see was drowning and likely only mine because, by all accounts, my father the very good swimmer was caught in a tide but he hadn't really been in danger. That tide might have saved his life as he would have otherwise swam back to me and if it had been before the Yeerk had dropped the dagger…

But it didn't happen.

"It didn't happen, though," the Yeerk said, echoing my thoughts.

We're not really speaking right now and it's the strangest thing. I really don't have much experience with the silent treatment and the Yeerk in my head. It's not like it would do much good if I had decided to do it and he hadn't, though, as I can never help but at least think a reply even if I didn't intend to voice it. I wonder if he'd reply if I said anything but I'm not about to.

I'm just so horrified by what the Yeerk has tried to do that I have nothing to say to him. He didn't actually see the need to inform me of why he wasn't speaking to me but I can guess. He hadn't wanted to deal with my objections to what he saw as a legitimate form of self-defense and now the way things have been resolved wasn't very amenable to him.

I wondered how long it would last. A little peace is nice but I hoped it wouldn't go on for too long. Otherwise I'd have to really face the fact that the Yeerk was the only one that I could communicate with and not being able to talk to anyone _at all_ was worse than only being able to talk to someone that I hated and who was so dismissive of such human concepts as 'privacy.' Well, my privacy at least. He was fine with the idea of privacy where it concerned himself.

"I know but _still_," my mom said, a haunted look entering her eyes. "Oh, Tom, you shouldn't be the one to comfort me about this! You're the one who almost drowned."

The Yeerk grimaced and glanced at my leg. "And broke my leg, too. But I'll live and so it's fine."

"What if Jake hadn't woken up and followed you out to the dock? What if he hadn't gotten to you in time? You weren't even _conscious_, Tom!" my mom exclaimed.

"Maybe in an alternate universe or something I didn't make it but here in _this_ universe – which is the only one that really matters – I did and it's _fine_," the Yeerk said again.

My mom nodded but I'm not sure that she was convinced. "And while all this was going on, I was sleeping right through it. If something _had_ happened, if you had…I would have slept right through it!"

"Dad and I didn't want to wake you up," the Yeerk said patiently. "You sleeping was what was _supposed_ to happen."

And it was, too. The less people awake the easier it would have been for the Yeerk to escape. I didn't know how he was planning on getting home in time or why he had to kill my father before he left but since we weren't talking I couldn't ask him. I would once things got back to normal – if they ever did – but I rather doubted he'd answer.

"It was supposed to happen back when you two were just having a nice conversation at the docks. But when your lives were in danger…" my mom trailed off.

"You're not psychic, Mom, and we really weren't that loud. How could you have _possibly_ known?" the Yeerk demanded.

"I'm a mother. I should have known," my mom said stubbornly.

The Yeerk sighed. "You can beat yourself up about it all you want, Mom, but I think that it just takes away from the relief that everything's okay. And this wasn't your fault at all. If anything, it's my fault for deciding to talk to Dad so late at night out on the docks or him agreeing to do so."

Well, he was right about it being his fault that it happened at least. Well, at least partially. As far as I know, he had nothing to do with the dock collapsing because if he did then he'd have planned for it better and not injured me, nearly killed us both, and failed to kill Dad.

"You can't blame yourself!" my mom protested. "We've all been on that dock a hundred times and nothing has ever happened before tonight. How could you have possibly known? There was no reason to think that anything would have happened tonight when it's been fine every other single time it's ever been used!"

The Yeerk said nothing, just quietly waited for her to come to the conclusion on her own.

My mom's eyes widened. "You're right. I…It might take me awhile to really accept it but you're right. I couldn't have known either. And I'm sorry that I keep making this about me."

"Mom, it's _fine_," the Yeerk assured her. "I think we both know that if I were the one who needed to freak out then you'd be there for me so why not let you have your moment to freak out when you need to? I almost died tonight and Dad might have, too. It's only human to not just be able to shake it off."

If most people had said it, it would be a comforting statement and I know that Mom took it that way. With the Yeerk, it was a condemnation.

Yes, somehow or another we had made it through this trial unscathed but who was to say that we would be so lucky the next time?

Because one thing I had come to realize over these last few hellish days was that there would _always_ be a next time.

Review Please!


	71. Comic Book Villains

Comic Book Villains

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"You'll _never_ guess what I dreamed about last night," Marco said, his words almost a challenge.

I was walking Homer and Marco had decided that he had nothing better to do than follow me. Not that he would condescend to _help_, of course, but that was to be expected.

"I probably won't," I agreed calmly.

Marco's eyes narrowed. " Well, Jake, you're going to guess anyway."

I raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are!" Marco insisted.

"I'd love to know how you came to that conclusion," I replied.

"If you don't guess then I'm on t going to tell you about my dream," Marco threatened.

My eyes widened comically. "Say it isn't so! I sup pose you've left me with no choice but to try to muddle through as best I can."

If Marco were any younger, this is the time where he'd be stamping his feet and putting. As it was, he was not looking very happy with me. "Jake!"

"What?" I asked innocently.

Marco was too busy glowering to answer me.

"Oh, alright," I said, rolling my eyes. The fact that Marco thought I wouldn't be able to guess meant that this was either extremely bizarre or far more normal than I would have expected from my best friend. "Were you falling?"

"Why would I tell you if I dreamt I was falling?" Marco demanded, looking almost offended. That was – probably – a no then.

"I don't know. I-" I started to say.

"Just so we're clear, I didn't dream that I was eating a bag of marshmallows, that I went to school in my underwear, or that your cousin and I were playing strip poker," Marco interrupted.

I stared at him and decided that he was talking about Rachel because I already didn't want to know and I wanted to know even less if he wasn't. "Why would I have asked about Rachel-"

"I don't know. I just wanted to make that clear," Marco cut me off again.

"Well, consider me informed," I said slowly, hoping that we could quickly drop this. Rachel might be pretty I guess but, seriously, she's my cousin.

"Good," Marco said shortly.

"Um…did you dream that the teenage mutant ninja turtles beat up Squirtle?" I guessed.

Now it was Marco's turn to stare at me. "No, I didn't. And I think that maybe you need help. Some sort of dream therapy or something."

I rolled my eyes again. "I'll keep that in mind. And now that we've successfully proved that I will not, in fact, guess perhaps you could just tell me."

Homer barked his support.

"Good boy," I said absently and Homer wagged his tail happily. Life was so much easier for dogs than it was for the rest of us.

"Fine," Marco said, appearing to be put-out but I knew that he was secretly quite pleased at my failure to guess. "You know how people have those dreams where they're superheroes?"

"I don't, actually," I told him.

Marco sighed theatrically. "That's because you're incredibly boring, Jake."

"Then why ever do you hang out with me so much?" I inquired.

"I'm already fascinating but I'm ten times as exciting when compared to you," Marco explained. "It's the relativity effect or something."

"I knew you were just using me," I said accusingly.

Marco shrugged. "Please, Jake, let's not turn into Cassie and fight over the moral high ground. I know that you just use me to brighten up your life."

"No…" I said unconvincingly before quickly changing the subject. "So who were you? Cynic Man?"

" 'Cynic Man'?" Marco repeated disgustedly. "What kind of superhero is that? I was Superman, of course."

"Of course," I agreed seriously.

"I get the feeling that you're mocking me," Marco said suspiciously.

"Yeah, well, I get the feeling that you're projecting," I responded. "So you're Superman…"

"Visser Three was there!" Marco announced.

I groaned. "Visser Three is _always_ there. Tell me he wasn't Lois Lane."

"H wasn't," Marco assured me.

"Lana Lang?" I asked.

"Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you?" Marco asked, horrified. "He was a villain! And don't even _say_ Catwoman because I wasn't Batman."

"I know!" I cried, somewhat insulted. "What villain was he? Lex Luthor?"

"Yes, Jake, he was Lex Luthor," Marco said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's an extremely good fit seeing as how they're both blue, quadrupedal, and furry."

"Well, who was he then?" I asked curiously.

"I just told you," Marco said as if I were being thick. "Visser Three."

"Visser Three?" I asked skeptically. "I know he's a terror for _us_ to deal with but could his morphs really trouble _Superman_?"

"Would it surprise you that he could morph a creature that had Kryptonite either in or on it?" Marco asked rhetorically.

It did not, actually. Visser Three could morph _anything_. "Wait, 'on or in it'?" I repeated. "You don't _know_?"

"I was too busy trying not to die or let the Visser realize that I was human to ask him," Marco defended himself.

"But Superman _isn't_ human," I pointed out automatically. "Even though he looks like he is. How could you possibly hide that and why would you even want to?"

"There's this thing called 'dream logic', Jake…" Marco said pointedly.

"My mistake," I said, grinning. "So did you win?"

"What do you take me for? It's _my_ dream," Marco reminded me.

"Well that's good at least. So that's it?" I asked.

"That was the end of the dream but the reason that I told you about it is because I had a stunning revelation," Marco said importantly.

I nodded. "Do tell."

"That comic book dream was really weird but one thing wasn't so much. Visser Three makes an _excellent_ – or, dare I say it, perfect – comic book villain," Marco announced.

That surprised me. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't see it so you'll just have to take my word for it," Marco began. "First of all, the Visser is incredibly flamboyant just like comic book villains and he loves shouting and making speeches."

"Or at least when we're around," I pointed out. I tilted my head. "Still, he's so unstable that I can't really imagine he's particularly sane when we're not around. And hey, isn't instability a hallmark for comic book villains as well?"

Marco laughed. "Now you're talking! Comic book villains also always either secretly know the superhero's secret identity but keep silent for their own reasons-"

"Not really seeing that," I interrupt.

"True," Marco agreed, "but the other option is that the villain is remarkably dense to the truth of the superhero's identity or, you know, their species. Our species."

"Thank God for that," I said gratefully.

"We also face him all the time and yet somehow all of us are still alive," Marco continued. "Even him. Because you know that no one ever stays dead in comic books."

"Except Gwen Stacy," I argued.

"For now," Marco agreed. "But someday you know someone will bring her back to life."

"That day will never come," I said stubbornly. "And if it does then I will still refuse to acknowledge it."

"Fair enough," Marco said shrugging. "And then there's the fact that we always win."

"Do we?" I asked suddenly. "Always win?"

"I think so, eventually," Marco said, shrugging.

"What about that first time we went to the Yeerk Pool? We only freed one woman and didn't save my brother. Hell, we barely escaped with our lives. And then with Tobias…How is that a victory?" I demanded.

Marco looked a little annoyed that I had ruined the mood but he responded anyway. "Well, given that it was quite literally our third day even being aware of any of that and our first attempt to do anything ever, I'd say it was quite the victory that the Yeerk forces didn't manage to kill us. Comic book victories are rarely perfect. And even minor setbacks like, you know, the failure to get the morphing cube or to find the anti-morphing ray worked out in the end."

"Yes but the cost-"I started to say.

Marco rolled his eyes. "Am I _seriously_ going to have to explain the concept of 'not a perfect victory' to you?"

I sighed. "No, I guess not."

"And hey, every day we're not dead and – more importantly – aren't slug puppets is a victory, isn't it?" Marco asked.

I made a face.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing. It's just…_slug puppets_?" I repeated incredulously.

"I think it's very apropos," Marco said defensively.

"But think of the mental image!" I complained.

"Why do you think I chose it?" Marco asked, grinning.

"It figures," I said, sighing again.

"So what do you think? Visser Three, comic book villain?" Marco asked, bringing us back around to his initial point.

"You make some good points. Some _surprisingly _good points," I allowed.

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?" Marco wondered aloud.

"Probably because there's a but coming," I said reasonably. "There's one crucial difference between Visser Three and even the most Visser Three-iest of comic book villains?"

"And that is?" Marco asked curiously.

"Visser Three is real and comic book villains aren't. Visser Three can kill us and destroy everything that we hold dear," I reminded him.

"Well he can _try_," Marco muttered, apparently feeling uncharacteristically optimistic today. "Just like he's been trying religiously – almost fanatically – for the last two years."

"Sooner or later he'll probably succeed," I said cynically. "Laws of probability and whatnot."

"Tell that to the Trix Rabbit and that guy from Lucky Charms," I counter.

"Didn't the Trix Rabbit get to eat some Trix at some point?" Marco wondered. " I could have sworn I remembered that. And he must have tried some at some point or he wouldn't be so deadest on getting them."

"He should just go to a grocery store like a normal person and buy some," I remarked.

Marco shook his head. "No good. Knowing his luck, those sociopathic kids would follow him there and mug him in the parking lot. Or else they literally won't sell rabbits Trix. That kind of discrimination is frankly sickening." He paused, horrified. "Oh, God, I'm turning into Cassie!"

"I _like_ Cassie," I told him.

Another eye roll. "Trust me, I know."

"So, I'm lost. Is Visser Three like the Trix Rabbit now?" I asked.

"God, I hope so," Marco told me. "Although it occurs to me that anyone listening would find this all very strange out of context."

"Anyone listening would at best think we're crazy and never mention it again and at worst get us all infested," I pointed out.

"Good point," Marco admitted. "But you know that I can't _possibly_ drop this until you agree with me here on the status of Visser Three as a comic book villain."

"Do I need to actually agree or just say that I do?" I inquired.

Marco considered. "The former. And don't try to lie to me. I can taste sincerity."

I said nothing, just waited until his brain caught up with his mouth.

He winced. "Not like that! I meant tasting it like snakes do! See!" He stuck out his tongue.

"Sure you did," I said, amused. "And yes, Marco, I absolutely and wholeheartedly believe that Visser Three is pretty much a comic book villain who somehow managed to appear in real life."

Marco wiggled his tongue before sticking it back into his mouth. He was quiet a moment, considering. At last he nodded. "I'm convinced. Now I've got to tell you about this dream I had about Toby…"

Review Please!


	72. Quitting

Quitting

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: There is an end in sight: Chapter 100.

"_Just sports?" I couldn't stop repeating what he said. Tom, saying sports were no big deal? No way. He lived for sports. "Yeah, I guess I just don't have your total skill." _

_He shrugged. "Well, I quit the team, anyway. A couple of days ago."_

_I practically fell out of my chair. "You __**quit**__? You quit the team? And you didn't even talk to me about it? What's the deal?"_

"_I didn't say anything because I knew you and Dad would make a big thing of it. Look, there are more important things than throwing balls through hoops," he said. He had this mysterious look in his eyes. I figured he meant girls were the more important thing. "Besides," he added, "we do much cooler stuff at the Sharing. Maybe you should join up." _

_-Animorphs #1._

It's ridiculous that I'm even upset about this.

{So glad that you agree,} the Yeerk said dryly. {Now if you could put that newfound self-awareness to good use and _stop sulking, _that would be much appreciated.}

{I am _not_ sulking,} I insisted. {I can be upset about something without sulking, you know.}

{That remains to be seen,} the Yeerk replied.

I do have a lot of reasons that anyone (well, anyone who is not a Yeerk, evidently) would agree are legitimate reasons to be upset. For one thing, my planet is being invaded by telepathic tapeworms out to enslave us all more fully than we've ever managed to enslave _anyone_. Then there's the fact that it's somehow managed to be a secret invasion so no one even knows about it let alone is able to do anything to stop it. Even if they knew, the Yeerks have us at such a technological disadvantage that I don't know what kind of use the military would be. My own life was stolen from me about a year ago pretty much because I forgot to knock. No one has noticed this fact but a few people I know have been similarly trapped by the Yeerk in my head through their relationship with me. And the Yeerk refuses to even let me have the moral high ground because humanity has done their share of crappy things to each other and to animals.

That's quite enough to be dealing with on any given day but now there's more. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I hadn't seen it coming but I probably should have. And now this is just one more reminder of how far from my real life things were getting. Hell, it wasn't even _my_ life anymore, not really.

{My request for you to stop sulking wasn't an invitation to start sulking about the things you normally sulk about,} the Yeerk said, annoyed. {How you even took it that way is beyond me because I know that I was clear.}

{If I _were_ sulking – which I'm not – then that's really none of your business,} I said frostily.

The Yeerk sighed. {Oh, wonderful. Another bout of trying to compensate for losing all meaningful control by clinging to the little things.}

I really don't appreciate being so generalized by Yeerk's belittlement is nothing new.

The Yeerk stood outside Coach Simonds' office and knocked.

{Don't do this!} I exclaimed.

The Yeerk sighed again. {If I never listen when you're begging for something that I could conceivably see as being important for a human, why would I listen about something stupid like this?}

He had me there. He really _never_ listened. I really should just stop trying but somehow I never can. It's not like I ever think 'maybe this time will be different' but I really _cannot_ just watch quietly as the Yeerk does some of the things that he does. And this might not be very important in the grand scheme of things and it's not going to ruin anybody's life like the Yeerk usually does but _still_…

Simonds was at his desk, writing something. He glanced up automatically at the knock and broke into a wide smile when he saw me. Being the main scorer on the team and having never really been the type to get into trouble even _before_ the slug that had stolen my life had been concerned about not linking the Sharing to any delinquency, I was a favorite of his. Of course, that was all about to change.

"Tom!" he said cheerfully. He gestured to the chair on the other side of his office. It wasn't right on the other side of the desk (which was, in fact, facing the wall but he had a swivel chair so he could conveniently turn any which way he needed to) like in other office's I've seen but it was still a decent place to sit for a lengthier meeting. "Have a seat."

The Yeerk eyed the chair warily, not wanting to actually be here for long enough to justify the use of the chair. As it happened, he didn't even want to come here at all but he knew that he couldn't just quit the basketball team without telling anybody or he'd be called in to talk about missing practices and games and it would just take a whole lot of time.

It would also probably involve a concerned call to my parents and the Yeerk didn't seem to have a plan for telling them. I think he just hoped that they would never notice or if he just stopped talking about basketball they'd forget I was ever involved in it. Not that that would work forever but he still didn't want to be bothered about it now. And who knew? Maybe Simonds would call my parents anyway because of this abrupt and frankly out of character act. I could only hope that he would. This wasn't the sort of thing that should be happening at all but if it _was_ then at the very least people should notice.

{You really have no sense of perspective, do you?} the Yeerk marveled, sounding as if I were some exotic specimen and not the person whose life he had been stealing for a year.

{I'm told it's a teenage trait,} I replied.

The coach was still eyeing me expectantly so the Yeerk gingerly sat down.

"What can I do for you?" Simonds asked.

"I need to talk to you about the basketball team," the Yeerk said bluntly. Well, I guess that was a little more lead-in than I had expected. He could have just said 'I quit' and left.

Simonds nodded. Of course I'd be here for that. "I've got to tell you, Tom, that I've got a good feeling about our chances this year. We've got a solid defense and with you on offense we're just tearing the other teams apart. I don't know what we'll do when you graduate. Maybe that brother of yours will have inherited your talent, huh?"

Oh, that just makes it worse.

"I'm afraid you'll have to a little earlier than that," the Yeerk said awkwardly. Well, at least he was acknowledging that this was a bad situation, too, even if he felt that way for entirely different reasons than I did.

Simonds frowned, not even able to imagine what the Yeerk might be talking about. "What do you mean?"

The Yeerk took a deep breath. "I mean that I'm quitting the basketball team."

Simonds eyes just about popped out of his head then but aside from that he just sat there frozen.

I don't blame him. The very idea of me quitting the basketball team is laughable. Sports were always my life and even now, even after I've lost so much else I can still find the energy to be upset that I'm losing basketball, too. It's not like having the Yeerk use my body to play for the past year was anywhere near as good as actually playing for myself but it was _something_, at least, and now I won't even get that.

Sure there will be basketball in gym class which I'm sure the Yeerk will still gravitate towards since he has to do something and basketball is easier for me than other sports so he'll have to put less effort into it. Still, it's not the same, not at all and it's really not good enough.

{It's not even _you_ playing and you've done nothing but complain about that since I've got here! Try to get a little consistency!} the Yeerk complained.

{Just because I resent the fact it's you playing instead of me doesn't mean that I can't not want to quit the basketball team,} I replied matter-of-factly.

{But it's not even _you_ on it. It's been me on the basketball team for quite some time,} the Yeerk pointed out.

Simonds finally found his voice. "I have to say, Tom, that I was not expecting that. No, I was not expecting that at all. Is there any particular reason you want to quit?"

The Yeerk shrugged. {Yes. It is a huge time suck and there is little point in putting a ball through a hoop over and over and over again. I have far better ways to waste my time and actual important duties to carry out as a loyal member of the Yeerk Empire.}

{I already know this,} I reminded him. {If you're talking to him you might want to do so out loud.}

{I can only do that if we're going to infest him,} the Yeerk countered. {Is that what you want?}

That was a stupid question.

"I just…It's always been a challenge between keeping my grades up and being on the team. Now that the Sharing's in the picture, I'm falling behind in everything. Something's got to go," the Yeerk lied.

"I _have_ noticed that you've been a little more distracted than usual as of late," Simonds agreed reluctantly, rubbing his chin.

Well of course he was. He didn't want to be there.

{I know that we have to pretend to be our hosts but after a year I feel confident that I can start making my own decisions if I'm careful and it looks like I've even managed to lay the groundwork for this one as well,} the Yeerk gloated.

"I can't let my grades drop or I wouldn't be eligible for the team _anyway_ and those are really important for college. And as for the Sharing…well it's just a really good organization and it helps so many people that I couldn't possibly give that up. So, as much as I hate to say it, I just don't have the time in my life for basketball right now," the Yeerk said, sounding as regretful as he possibly could. It was all completely fake, of course, but Simonds seemed to buy it.

"I understand," Simonds said at last. "I can't say that I'm not disappointed, Tom, but I do understand. Your grades have to come first. The team will sure miss you but…I do understand. I'll tell you what I'll do, though. If your life ever settles down and you have time for the team again, there will always be a place for you."

I could feel the Yeerk's annoyance even as he forced a smile.{Will he just let it _go_ already?} "Thanks, Coach. I'll let you know."

Then he stood and hurried out of the room.

{There is a far better chance of you humans actually managing to be a threat to us than of me ever going back to that horrid game,} the Yeerk declared.

Review Please!


	73. Jumping on the Bandwagon

Jumping on the Bandwagon

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: So I hadn't _intended_ to make this about the basketball team again so soon but Jake demanded closure on this before he'd even consider joining the Sharing.

_I spotted someone I hadn't noticed before. Jake. He was sitting two aisles up, next to his brother Tom. _

_I was surprised. "That guy up there," I pointed. "Is he a member?"_

""_Who, Tom? Yeah, Tom is a very senior full member." _

_-Megamorphs #4. _

"Hey Jake, can I talk to you for a minute?" Tom asked, standing in the middle of my doorway.

I gratefully looked away from my homework. We were reading Hamlet for English and it made no sense. Fortunately, our book had one page of Old English and then another page full of normal speech throughout the whole play. The 'to be or not to be' speech was a little weird modernized but other than that it was very convenient.

My teacher said that we should _try_ to read it in Old English first and only consult the normal side when necessary but I knew that everyone was cheating and pretty much ignoring the original play. But hey, if the teacher didn't want us to do that then maybe she shouldn't have assigned Shakespeare to eighth graders.

"Yeah, of course," I said agreeably, wondering why Tom was even asking instead of just coming into my room and starting to talk like he normally did. Was this something really important or what?

"So did you hear about that mess down in the construction site last night?" Tom asked me conversationally.

I thought about it. Had I? "No, not really."

Tom raised his eyebrows, surprised. "I thought you were out at the mall last night."

"I was," I agreed. "And we were actually walking home when something weird happened."

"Oh? Did you see something?" Tom asked curiously. "I didn't see anything myself because I wasn't out that way but I've heard everything from aliens to fireworks. Of course, the fireworks story is what the police found after investigating the disturbance so that theory seems a little more likely at this point but where's the fun in that?"

I nodded. "And I'd like to think that if aliens ever _did_ land that people would notice and not blame fireworks."

"It would be quite pathetic if they couldn't," Tom agreed. "So come on, what did you see? I'm dying over here!"

I laughed and shook my head at his melodrama. "Oh, I don't know. We weren't actually _there_, you know."

"Good. Otherwise I'd have to start wondering how you feel about setting off illegal fireworks," Tom quipped.

"You know I'd be the one standing back and hoping that Rachel and Marco don't blow their hand off or something," I replied. "When we were walking home, we saw a…a shooting star or something. Maybe a meteor. I guess it could have been fireworks or something. Who knows? We were pretty far away."

"A shooting star," Tom repeated thoughtfully. "Nice one. And new, too. Do you mind if I use it?"

"I guess not," I said, puzzled. "But use it for what, exactly?"

"To add to the conspiracy theories, naturally. This whole thing is great. It's like people think that this is Roswell or something," Tom answered. He snapped his fingers. "But hey, there was something else I wanted to ask you about."

I waved my hand imperiously in an elaborate 'go on' gesture.

Tom grinned at that. "Well, your highness, I wanted to know if you wanted to come to the Sharing with me."

That surprised me. Tom had never really tried to get me to join the Sharing before despite the fact that he had been a member for _ages_. "The Sharing?"

"Yeah. You know, that club where I spend my every waking moment," Tom joked.

"The reason you quit the basketball team," I added darkly.

Tom sighed. "You're still upset about that?"

"You told me this morning," I said flatly, refusing to let him make me feel like I was being ridiculous.

"It's _my _place on the team, Jake. I don't see why you're taking it so personally," Tom said, sounding honestly bewildered.

"It's not that," I claimed. And it wasn't, really. I didn't understand this, at all, and it made me feel sort of like my brother had been replaced by a pod person when I wasn't looking because of how little he seemed to care but it _was_ ultimately his decision. "You didn't even tell me. If I didn't tell you about…what happened with me then would you have _ever_ told me or would you have just waited until I noticed on my own?"

"I would have told you!" Tom insisted, looking hurt. "It's just…I only…I didn't want to disappoint you, Jake, so I was trying to find the right way to tell you. And this morning I swear I was just trying to make you feel better. I guess I sort of screwed that up, huh?"

"Well," I said, mollified, "it did distract me from my own problems."

"I'm sorry," Tom apologized. "I should have told you."

Of course, now that he actually did apologize I felt a little silly.

"Why did you quit the basketball team?" I asked him curiously, hoping he'd give me a real answer this time. "And it can't just be for the Sharing because you managed to do both for months now."

"There are only so many hours in a day, Jake," Tom replied. "Homework takes up a lot of time, especially as you get older. It's like your teachers actually expect you to read the entire textbook by the end of the year or semester or whatever."

I cast a dismayed glance at the Hamlet book. "You mean it gets _worse_?"

"Let me put it this way," Tom said, smirking. "I often look back fondly on all the free time I had back in middle school."

I groaned. "I hate the world."

"Hey, I survived and so will you," Tom said encouragingly. "But, like I said, it takes up a lot of time. Basketball practice is a few hours a night and that's not including games and the travel time for away games. I didn't have a lot of time to spare even _before_ I joined the Sharing."

"You managed," I pointed out.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I did. I didn't spend a lot of time at the Sharing at first because I didn't really _have_ time and it took me awhile to really get into the Sharing but now that I'm in, I love it. I love hanging out with the most accepting people you'd ever hope to meet. They're not catty or cliquey or anything. I love helping others and even having fun while doing it. I love the fact that they don't treat me like a kid. And yeah, I love their kickass basketball court, too."

I grinned at that. Some things never changed and I was _so_ relieved to hear that. Maybe Tom wasn't so much a pod person after all.

"And I tried to balance it all out, Midget, I really did but it's just too much. Something had to give. It couldn't be grades, of course, and I thought long and hard about it and eventually chose the Sharing over basketball. I'm not happy about it but it had to be done or I'd have had a mental breakdown or something," Tom revealed.

I frowned. "You made it sound like it was no big deal. In fact, I think that those were the words you used."

Tom looked sheepish. "Look, it's hard enough that I had to make this decision even without reminiscing about how much I love basketball. And I was also trying to maybe minimize your freak-out. I still have to tell Dad, you know. And Mom for that matter since I know she'd only tell Dad but she won't really care as long as I'm happy."

I winced, knowing that however I was feeling about it, Dad's reaction would be a lot worse.

"See?" Tom asked upon seeing my expression. "It is going to be _awful_."

Suddenly I was feeling a lot more sympathy for Tom and his decision to keep quitting to himself for the time being even though I still think he should have told me. I guess it's just easier to keep a secret the fewer the people know about it.

"He's just going to be concerned," I offered. "He knows how much you love basketball."

Tom sighed. "Yeah, I know, and I understand but this is the right choice for me right now and I'm not looking forward to having to defend it."

"Well, good luck with that," I told him.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Your heartfelt support is truly touching, Jake."

"I try," I said modestly.

"So now that we've hopefully gotten _that_ out of the way…" Tom trailed off and looked questioningly at me.

I considered the matter. I still would have wanted to be told but what was I supposed to do? What was done was done and I couldn't hold it against him forever. I could hold it against him for longer than a few hours, sure, and not even be seen as that unreasonable for it but what was the point? I could understand his reasoning a little better now for keeping it a secret and I didn't want him to think that telling me things would be a mistake in the future by punishing him for finally coming clean.

I nodded.

"You still haven't given me an answer about the Sharing," Tom reminded me.

Oh, right. The Sharing. I had actually completely forgotten about his request for all that we had been talking about how joining that had led to his leaving the team. Well, I had a lot less homework than he did and wasn't even on any sort of a team so I doubted that I'd find the time commitment too overwhelming. Besides, I didn't know much about the Sharing but I knew that you could go for a while as a sort of trial run before you actually had to commit to anything. And even after committing, there was nothing to stop me from quitting afterwards if I got too busy or just didn't like it, right?

"The silence is deafening, Midget," Tom joked.

I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I was just thinking about it."

"Well it's not like I'm asking you to sign the papers in blood or anything," Tom told me, rolling his eyes again. "It's just one meeting."

"What was that about signing papers in blood?" I asked alarmed.

"You have to make it through three meetings before I'm allowed to talk about that," Tom said apologetically. "I know you probably don't know much about the Sharing but one meeting won't kill you even if you absolutely _hate_ it – which you won't – and what better way to learn about it than to just dive right in and go? And I'll be right there with you if you have any questions or don't know anybody or something."

I didn't really want to go but I couldn't think of any reason _not_ to go and it was just one meeting. Besides, I was a little curious about what this Sharing could be that it convinced my brother to give up basketball for it.

"Alright," I agreed. "One meeting."

"You won't regret this, Jake," Tom promised. "The Sharing has a way of changing your life."

Review Please!


	74. The Stranger I've Always Known

The Stranger I've Always Known

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: The spoken dialogue comes directly from #50.

_The door flew open. Ten Blue Band Hork-Bajir Controllers stormed in. Overwhelmed Ax before he could react. Aimed Draco Beams at Tobias and Marco…_

_The Hork-Bajir stood aside. And in walked Tom. Tom. Jake's brother. A human-Controller. Tom walked up the aisle. Toward Jake, fully human again. _

_-Animorphs #50. _

Jake looks the same as he ever did. I think that's the strangest part of it all. Jake is now no longer just my sixteen-year-old brother but the probable leader of the only active resistance on Earth and he looks the same as he did before any of this.

He's even wearing that same stupid bike shorts and tight t-shirt outfit that he had been sporting more and more over the years. I guess it must have made morphing easier or something. And it's helping to remind me that Jake looks the same because Jake _is_ the same. He became this child-soldier three years ago and it's just that only now we can see it.

He doesn't look afraid. I don't know the intimate details of their various adventures but I don't honestly see how they could have ever been in a worse situation than this. They're all captured (I think. We're still not exactly sure on how many of them there are but this looks about right) and unable to morph without being shot dead by one of the several Dracon Beams targeted at them or dying from a mysterious blade-related injury. Those two that are actually in morph can't do anything either for the same reasons.

Maybe that one time when one of the And-one of the human resistance members had been captured and taken to the Yeerk Pool that time that Jake wasn't here but the Garatron inspector was. Still, we know that that time had a happy ending while this one probably won't. And then we – _they_, the Yeerks – didn't have possession of the morphing cube then.

I know that Jake had little choice but to hand it over. The Yeerks would have shot him or stabbed him or even just held him down and taken it from him if he had not complied. It would have accomplished nothing but might have cost Jake his life and definitely would have cost him his dignity if such things matter to him. Which, as I've come to realize, I honestly have no idea about. And yet the thought that the Yeerks finally got their hands on morphing technology because my little brother _just handed it to them_…well, it's making me sick.

I could feel the Yeerk's terrible triumph as he held the cube in his hands. I felt a surge of…something run through me. Did that make me morph-capable or something? I'm sure the Yeerk is just itching to find out. Still, the newfound victory wasn't enough to cut through the sheer, raw _rage_ and bitter hatred that had recently replaced the Yeerk's indifference towards my brother.

I can't say I don't understand why he's so upset. I _look_ fine and physically I suppose that I am. It's been less than a month since Jake was discovered and had to flee and leave our parents to the Yeerks (and me, too, of course but that was hardly shocking behavior for him now was it?) but it has been the longest less than a month of my life.

The Visser doesn't like failure for all that he's similarly failed to destroy my brother and his friends or even to figure out that they weren't Andalites – for the most part – despite his well-known obsession with them and the fact he's even living in the head of one. For most people, being infested just makes them anonymous and dooms them to obscurity. For the Visser's Andalite, Alloran, it did just the opposite.

But maybe Visser One's extreme reaction isn't surprising. If the Yeerk had only realized what Jake was earlier then the Visser wouldn't have been on the hook for not figuring it out and Jake and the others would have been defeated long ago. Even now, who knows who long they can last on the run?

Visser One is an excellent torturer. I think the entire _universe_ would agree with me on that and I can't even imagine what it's like to have the likes of _him_ in your head although fortunately I'll never have to find out. Yeerk medical technology means that people can go through more injuries without scars than they normally can and that's only the uncreative part.

The various Yeerks the Visser is mad at enough to want to torture them always have it worse without access to Kandrona rays but it's not like we really get access to food or water, either. And – as I said – he's very creative and has had several decades to really refine his techniques. Even before he infested an Andalite I'm told he had quite the reputation for his abilities on that front. And, unlike usual, I look like my brother so the Visser had a reason to really go at me, too.

But now that's over. I hope. If the Yeerks aren't going to kill me then the least that they can do is not torture me. Still, one more huge failure…if this doesn't end the way the Yeerks want…who knows what the Visser might do?

And now that the Yeerk was no longer at the Visser's mercy and my brother is at his, he decided to take full advantage of the opportunity afforded to him. The minute that Jake and the others were out in the hall and safely away from those blind kids who would just get in the way and ask questions (what were they even doing there anyway? Giving blind kids the power to morph? Were they really that desperate? That wasn't a good sign. Had they bestowed the power yet?), the Yeerk struck Jake hard across the face.

"My host's own brother!" he ranted. Apparently he had some things that he needed to get off his chest and he didn't care who heard him. He was probably rehearsing this in great detail while the Visser was torturing us. I wonder if Jake has any idea what happened. Probably not. To him it's likely as simple as being killed for the Yeerk's failure or not being killed.

Jake stumbled back but a Hork-Bajir caught him and shoved him forward again for the Yeerk to continue to attack.

I don't understand my brother anymore. I thought that I did just last month but now I see that I haven't understood him in a very long time and it feels like he's abandoned me. He tried to save our parents, at least, but where was my attempted rescue? It's not like he's been wanting for opportunity. It hurts to even look at him but it's still almost unbearable to feel my body being used to beat the crap out of Jake. He's had worse, of course, and if he's lucky he'll continue to have worse. But just the same, he is my little brother and this is so wrong.

The Yeerk hit him again. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me? All that time we were searching for _you_. Looking for Andalites. And it was you! Right there in my own house. Right down the hall. I could have killed you a million times! Visser One almost starved me to death for my stupidity."

Jake doesn't care. Of course he doesn't care. And that blank look that he got after the brief flicker that flashed across his face when we first showed up had faded hasn't left yet. It's remarkable how he managed to keep it there despite the hits he's taken. I guess that, being one of the supposed Andalite Bandits means that he's taken worse and learned to do so stoically.

He might _look_ familiar but he might as well be a Controller himself for all the familiarity I can see in him. This isn't the Jake I knew but then I guess that that Jake doesn't exist and hasn't for a long time, just like the Tom that everyone else knew hasn't. I wonder what he's thinking, what he's planning. He's been doing this for too damn long to just take it lying down and allow himself to be passively walked down for his infestation.

I especially can't see him allowing that after what happened with our parents. But what can he possibly do? One wrong move – or even the Yeerk thinking he's making a wrong move or considering it – and then he's dead. He's dead before he even has time to realize how dead he is. And I don't want to see Jake right now – or ever – and I certainly don't want him to be a Controller no matter how upset I am but I don't want to have to watch him die in front of me, either.

I think that that just might kill me and the Yeerk would use my body to laugh and gloat over the matter just like the other one did when Elfangor was killed so very long ago before any of this really started. I wonder…were they those kids in the construction site? To think it could all come back to that and we all forgot about them to focus on…them.

"Take them down to the garage off the loading dock," the Yeerk ordered. "If the girl tries to morph or escape, kill her." As if he doesn't know that it's Rachel. My cousin Rachel who is just as strange as Jake but looking far more human the way you can see her plotting the painful death of everyone in the room. When was the last time that I saw her? "Make the gorilla and bird demorph. Keep the Andalite under extra guard. He'll make a special host body. And inform Visser One that we have the rebels. And the cube."

I'm not convinced that the Andalite will actually make any sort of host bodies at all or even my brother and his friends will. Maybe they'll escape, yes, but more likely the Visser will just have them killed. Part of it will be his annoyance at the frustration that they have caused him over the years but another part of it will be the Visser's disinclination to share the privilege of controlling an Andalite and morphing. He's had plenty of opportunities over the years to at least try to get another Andalite for a host but he prefers to torture and kill them. I think the Andalites prefer that as well but the Yeerks don't generally take potential host preference into account.

Once the Visser gets here the situation is even more hopeless but if the call is made and something happens…well, one more failure just might get me killed.

{That's why I'm taking the cube,} the Yeerk said vaguely. {If the worst happens, this thing is worth a hundred 'Andalite Bandits.' But just in case…}

He turned back to Jake and I could feel his annoyance with how little response Jake was giving him. If it weren't for the way he staggered from the blows it would be as if he couldn't even see me at all.

"My host's parents were given as hosts to relatively low-ranking Controllers," he said coldly. "This is so we can kill them without regret if we have to. So if any of you even thinks about making trouble…"

That got a reaction. Jake still said nothing but the expression on Jake's face morphed from calm indifference to a very definite message.

That message said that in that case the Yeerks might as well kill them now because there was _nothing_ in this universe that would convince him to stop.

Review Please!


	75. The Truth at Last

The Truth at Last

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

In a way, I had been expecting this meeting ever since our identities had been revealed to the world. It was an obvious question.

Saddler's fate had been sealed the moment that truck or whatever had struck his bike. In a perfect world…well, no, in a perfect world Saddler never would have died at sixteen and Rachel wouldn't have, either. But in a _kinder _world, I suppose, albeit still a world that would allow something so dreadful to happen to someone so young, Saddler would have been moved to our hospital and the doctors would have tried to save him but they would have failed and Saddler would have died.

His parents and his brothers and sister would have been devastated but they would have buried him and tried to move on with their lives as best they could. I've heard that you never _really_ get over the death of a child (I'm trying to push the guilt away whenever I think of it) but at least they would have answers. There wouldn't be any great mystery aside from the typical 'Why did this happen?' kind of questions and there would be closure.

But I know, the way I've known since I first accepted that my brother was a Controller, that our world is not a kind one. Not even a little. It is a cruel, vicious world that just loves to get your hopes up only to dash them to the ground and spit all over them.

Saddler was hit and badly injured and then taken to our hospital where the doctors tried to save him and he did, in the end, die. But I don't' know if he died because it was just his time or if David actively killed my dying cousin or even if he just prevented Saddler's life from being saved when he made his switch.

I don't know what happened to his body, either. I'm probably better off not knowing, actually. It would just make me sick. But either way, David is probably dead and hates me too much to tell me besides.

But at least I knew that much.

Rachel knew it as well but the rest of my family was treated to their very own miracle when "Saddler" suddenly appeared happy and healthy and whole. I always thought that, in addition to being needlessly and unimaginably cruel, this was the stupidest move David had made. Was pissing us off _really _worth the risk of Yeerk detection?

I know that Tom had been eyeing him suspiciously if nothing else. Even if they didn't realize that the so-called 'miracle' was just regular run-of-the-mill Andalite morphing technology, they might be very interested in having a host whose strange healing they could examine and experiment on.

And if Saddler lived too far away and his parents wouldn't let him stay here in Santa Barbara then that was just two more host bodies.

Not that David cared about the damage he caused. I doubt he even realized how much danger he was in every moment he borrowed Saddler's form but then he never was half as clever as he thought he was.

David had never met Saddler and he put very little effort into pretending but the miracle was just so tempting that no one questioned him. Maybe they never would have questioned him.

And then came the day when David took that miracle away and forced my family to come to realize that Saddler needed to be mourned after all and that they had no idea what had happened to him.

David, I'm sure, would have blamed me and the others for trapping him and thus preventing him from playing his role buy my family deserved to know that Saddler was dead and Saddler himself – for all that he was kind of a jerk – deserved far better than for David to steal his life. And we had never wanted David to start that charade in the first place.

My aunt and uncle had no answers and no idea of where to begin looking for them.

Until.

Until they learned of a power that could heal wounds almost instantaneously and allow one person to slip into the form of another. And Saddler had been acting so very odd…

It took longer than I'd expected but the call had come.

I hadn't wanted to meet with them. This wasn't going to give them peace but I'd promised myself when it happened that I would one day tell them if they'd asked and the war was over. Well, the war is over and they're asking. I'm sick of breaking promises anyway. Plus since I sent Rachel to her death, I'm the only one who can _really_ tell this story.

So here I am. I didn't agree to meet them at my house because then I couldn't control how long this meeting lasted (What was I supposed to do? Ask the grieving parents of a son whose disappearance that I was slightly involved in to leave?) and meeting at their house would put me at too much of a disadvantage.

We met at a park about halfway between our two houses. I recognized my aunt and uncle immediately despite having not seen either of them since they finally gave up on Saddler after David became a _nothlit_ and went home.

They were both extremely pale and nervous, like they were afraid to hope. They should be. It reminded me that there were other problems in the world besides the Yeerks since two people whose lives were only indirectly touched by it could be going through such a difficult time. And oh, Saddler died more than two years ago. It feels like an eternity ago.

"Jake," Uncle George said, looking like he wasn't sure if he was trying to find the hero he'd heard so much about inside of the nephew he'd always known or if he should be searching for his nephew inside of the hero. Not that I feel like a hero but I know what people have said. And really, given some of my actions I could be viewed a lot less generously. I should probably be a lot more grateful than I actually am but it's just so impossible to be _grateful_ for any part of the war, even the ending. Maybe especially the ending all things considered.

"Aunt Ellen, Uncle George," I greeted them both with a curt nod.

Aunt Ellen decided to skip the pleasantries. "Jake, do you know what happened to Saddler?"

I could lie. She'd never know. Still, I've come all this way and they've been waiting for so long. It is tempting, though.

"Yes."

Aunt Ellen clutched Uncle George's arm so hard that I was pretty sure there would be a mark. "What happened? Was he…one of you?"

I shook my head. "The Yeerks, for all the danger that they represented and all the damage that they did and could have done, were concentrated no a much smaller area. At first it was because they wanted to take as many people as possible with as little losses as possible and they knew that they didn't really have the manpower to take us by force without wasting millions or billions of bodies. Then towards the end they wanted to finally completely take everyone in the area before moving on to another and finally get rid of us. You lived too far away for the Yeerks to have ever gone there."

"But we've heard all about morphing and Saddler's miraculous recovery sounds _just like it_," Uncle George protested.

This was the hard part. I winced. "It was morphing."

Uncle George started. "But you _just said-_"

"That wasn't Saddler," I interrupted. It wasn't nice, perhaps, but I just wanted to get through this.

"What do you _mean_ it wasn't Saddler?" Aunt Ellen demanded, horrified but utterly lost.

"When we got the power to morph, we didn't get the morphing cube as well," I explained. "There wasn't really a lot of time and where would we have even hidden it? I guess the Andalite that gave it to us – Elfangor – didn't think of giving it to us or thought it was too risky and hoped it would be destroyed when the Yeerks killed him. They didn't find it at any rate and we didn't think to look for it either. But then, just a few days before Saddler was hit there was a boy who found the morphing cube. His name was David."

"David?" Uncle George repeated uncertainly.

"Unfortunately, he didn't know what he had and so he tried to sell it on E-Bay. The Yeerks saw it and they wanted it desperately so they invaded his house, infested his parents, and we barely got out of there with him and the cube," I continued.

"What does this have to do with Saddler?" Aunt Ellen cried out.

"We decided to make David one of us. It wasn't even a choice, really, since if we left him there he'd have gotten infested and we figured that after what the Yeerks did to his life he'd want to help us fight them. He was…so resentful, though, of everything. He even resented us for insisting that he follow the rules and hide from the Yeerks. And he was there when I told them about Saddler," I replied.

Aunt Ellen got it first. "No…"

"What?" Uncle George asked, still not making the connection.

"David quickly had a falling out with us and tried to get the morphing cube back so he could leave town and maybe get his own team of morph capable jewel thieves or whatever. He hated the Yeerks but he wasn't interested in fighting them with us. And he knew that you needed a miracle," I said quietly.

"So this…this _David_ morphed my son?" Uncle George asked, what little color that was left in his face draining from it.

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"_Why_?" Aunt Ellen asked, heartbroken.

I hesitated. "He never actually told us why. He wanted to hurt us, certainly, and he wanted to have a family but his were out of his reach. Maybe he also thought that we wouldn't make you lose your son again."

"That boy was _not_ our son," Uncle George growled.

I nodded. "We agreed. We didn't want to cause you any more pain, it was true, but just the same we couldn't let you think that Saddler was still alive when David probably killed him."

"You don't know what happened?" Aunt Ellen asked, surprised.

I shook my head. "I know no more than you do on that front. Saddler was flat lining and he needed to be taken to surgery or something and the power went out or the nurses were knocked out and then David had morphed Saddler who had disappeared."

"Oh my boy…" Aunt Ellen whispered, tears in her eyes.

"What happened to this David?" Uncle George asked angrily, narrowing his eyes.

"We took care of it," I said simply. "He was exceedingly dangerous and completely amoral. He won't be hurting anybody again."

"Good," he said gruffly.

But it wasn't good. Nothing about this entire situation was good and I can't help but wonder if I did the right thing by telling them. Still, it's too late to take it back now. They may have most of their questions answered (not all of course, they'll never know everything that happened or be completely sure of the why) but they've lost the peace that comes from even being able to pretend.

Just one more proud moment of family history.

Review Please!


	76. Preemptive Refusal

Preemptive Refusals

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast and listening to the Yeerk complaining about the fact that we still have instant maple and ginger oatmeal. He had never personally had any as we never bought oatmeal at all until the dangers of it had been well-documented. Even though he wouldn't eat it and wasn't threatened by its mere presence, the fact that it was in my house seemed to offend him. As, of course, did the fact t hat I have a hard time taking this weakness of his seriously.

Marco walked into the kitchen then and went right over to the pantry. "Good morning."

"Good morning," the Yeerk replied, barely glancing up.

There was the sound of Marco getting food out so apparently he was eating breakfast here. Then we heard the microwave and the Yeerk's head shot up.

{Oh, come on! There are plenty of sugary cereals he could eating!} he protested.

{If no one eats it then it won't go away,} I pointed out.

{Your parents keep buying more when we're out,} the Yeerk said sourly.

{Well I can't help you there,} I replied.

"Jake's in the shower," Marco said by way of explanation. "He was actually still sleeping when I got here. Can you believe that?"

"Well, it is nine on a Saturday," the Yeerk said tolerantly.

Marco nodded. "And we were up until three and yet _I'm_ still awake."

"Why were you up until three?" the Yeerk asked, mildly curious.

Marco smirked. "We're teenagers on a Friday night. What better reason do we need?"

"I could be wrong but isn't sleeping until noon the other half of that equation?" the Yeerk asked.

Marco shrugged. "It could be but not when it's before noon and I'm bored."

The microwave went off and Marco took the oatmeal out and grabbed a spoon. Then he sat down across the table from me.

The Yeerk wrinkled my nose. "That looks disgusting."

Marco glanced down at his oatmeal and examined it for a moment. "It is kind of mushy, I guess, but I don't usually spend time staring at my food while I'm eating it. I get the school lunch far too much for that."

The Yeerk laughed. "That's probably a good idea then. I always pack my lunch so I don't have to worry about that."

"Well unless I want to wonder why my food is always blue, I can't afford to look," Marco continued. Blue food. That usually means blueberries, food coloring, or mold.

The Yeerk frowned. "You probably _should_ look into-"

"Packing my lunch is a _lot_ of work early in the morning," Marco interrupted.

"Well, if you're sure," the Yeerk said doubtfully. {I just don't understand how humans can be so careless about their health.}

{Well if he gets sick he might be more concerned,} I suggested.

{Perhaps, though I'm not convinced,} the Yeerk murmured. {And it's still careless to wait until something happens before getting concerned.}

{Maybe.} It made sense to me but I was at a loss for how to explain it. {He seems to be fine, though.}

{Everyone is until something happens,} the Yeerk counters.

"No."

The Yeerk glanced up. " 'No?'" he asked questioningly. {What is he talking about? Did I miss something?}

"I don't want to join the Sharing," Marco elaborated.

The Yeerk blinked. "I didn't say anything about the Sharing."

"No but you were going to," Marco claimed. "You always ask me."

{He does have a point,} I said, amused. I would normally be more concerned but I know that Marco is never going to join the Sharing so it's not a threat that the Yeerk keeps pestering him about it.

{Not necessarily!} the Yeerk argued.

{Really?} I asked skeptically.

{The oatmeal is quite distracting,} the Yeerk explained. "I'm not _that_ bad!"

"I never said anything about being _bad_, just that the last one hundred and fourteen times I've seen you, you asked me to join the Sharing," Marco replied.

" 'One hundred and fourteen'?" the Yeerk repeated. "You're making that up."

"Am I? Am I really?" Marco challenged.

"I certainly hope you are," the Yeerk said but he was suddenly a lot less certain. {If he's not then that is _extremely_ disturbing.}

{And yet somehow not half as disturbing as you masquerading as me while trying to destroy my world and forcing me to watch,} I offered.

The Yeerk groaned. {How did I know that you were going to say that?}

{I don't know. Perhaps it's the fact that you see everything that I think,} I suggested. Well, I say 'see'…

{That's true but it's mostly the fact that you _always_ do that,} the Yeerk complained.

{It's not my fault I can't forget about your presence,} I sniffed. {You're very intrusive, you know.} To put it mildly.

Marco wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe. Or maybe I was just feeling rather Rain Man."

"Going to take your act to Vegas?" the Yeerk inquired the instant I remembered the gambling part of that movie.

"The minute I can pass for eighteen," Marco replied promptly. "Which, knowing my luck, will be at twenty-three."

"You must really hate being asked about the Sharing, whether you count the times you've been asked or not, if you're going to start preemptively refusing to join," the Yeerk remarked.

Marco shrugged. "Maybe not so much _hate_ as think it's pointless. But ask me again when we get to the three hundredth time you've asked me to join and we'll see."

"I am _not_ going to ask you to join the Sharing three hundred times!" the Yeerk protested. {If we ever come to that, I swear I will stage a loud conversation about Andalites in front of him and just drag him down to the Yeerk Pool.}

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear it, Tom," Marco said cheerfully. "Or, at least, how relieved I _would_ be if I believed it for a second."

"I can see how asking you one hundred and fourteen times – which I absolutely did not do – might be considered a little, shall we say, _excessive_ but still-"

"See, you can't even admit that it _is _excessive," Marco cut in.

The Yeerk rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then it is excessive."

"You're only saying that because I called you out on it," Marco accused. "You really don't think it is possible to ask someone to join the Sharing too often."

"Well if you just up and joined then maybe I'd stop asking you," the Yeerk hinted.

{It's not going to work,} I said confidently.

{What makes you so certain?} the Yeerk demanded.

{One hundred and fourteen past experiences,} I said smugly.

{Oh shut up,} the Yeerk said, annoyed.

{Although I guess a few of those were Temrash's,} I conceded.

{What? So you can remember _his_ name and not mine?} the Yeerk inquired.

{My mistake. Although I guess a few of those were the other Yeerk's,} I amended.

{That's better,} the Yeerk said, satisfied.

"I would join, really, but then what would happen to my dream of reaching the Guinness record for most times asked to join a cult?" Marco asked innocently.

"So it_ doesn't_ annoy you!" the Yeerk said triumphantly.

"Oh, I never said that. I just believe that if I stuck being asked anyway I might as well make it work for me," Marco explained. "And I love how you didn't even react to me calling it a cult."

The Yeerk sighed. "Believe it or not, you're not the first to call it that."

"No kidding," Marco said, grinning.

"It's completely ridiculous, of course, but some of the…let's say 'less well-adjusted' kids at my school have a few things to say about it. It's sad, really, but what can you do?" the Yeerk asked rhetorically.

A dark look briefly entered Marco's eyes. "I can think of a few things."

"Huh?"

But Marco shook his head. "Oh, nothing. The biggest problem, you know, with being asked to join the Sharing all the time – besides how repetitive it is – is that each time I'm asked I'm obligated to think of a new reason why I won't join."

The Yeerk stared at him. "You know that _no one_ is requiring you to do that, right?"

Marco shrugged. "Yeah, I know. It's always the arbitrary rules we place upon ourselves that give us the most trouble, you know."

"If you say so…"

"Usually my reasons are centered around the stupid name but I must confess that I'm being asked so very often that I'm beginning to run out of ways to make fun of it," Marco complained.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with the Sharing's name!" the Yeerk protested.

{I've always said that it was stupid,} I announced.

{Not too stupid to keep you from coming,} the Yeerk snapped.

{No, but that was all Rose,} I reminded him. {The name really should have been a deterrent. I wish I were more like Marco.}

{I can't believe that I'm about to say this, human, but I'm glad you aren't. He is seriously bizarre,} the Yeerk complained.

{He's just messing around,} I said confidently.

{I wish I had your faith…} the Yeerk said, still disturbed.

Marco opened his mouth then abruptly closed it. He smirked. "No, that would be cruel…"

"There _isn't_!" the Yeerk reiterated.

"Of course there isn't," Marco said patronizingly. "And if you would like to be able to continue to think that then you might want to look into not asking me anymore. Or at least cutting it down to once a week."

"You brought it up!" the Yeerk cried out.

"Yeah, _this time_. Regardless of what you say, there really was only a matter of time before you brought it up," Marco remarked. "It's starting to become a problem. I'm thinking of just having business cards printed up and I can hand them out whenever I see a member of the Sharing. It would say something like 'No, I don't want to join your stupid cult. I also don't want to have a discussion on whether or not it is stupid and/or a cult.'"

"That would be something," the Yeerk replied. "But how would you know who was a member of the Sharing and who wasn't on sight? Are you planning on scoping out club meetings? You know people like me and Mr. Chapman but you won't know other people until they ask you to join."

Marco nodded. "The anonymity is always the worst part. I mean, they could be _anyone_. I found out that my mother was a member of the Sharing awhile ago!"

"Marco, your mother was the leader of the Sharing for a couple of months before she died," the Yeerk said delicately. {It's not like I care about upsetting him but I don't want to have to deal with an upset human. What is taking Jake so long?}

{It always takes him forever to get ready. That's why he's never on time for the bus,} I replied.

"Exactly! And I never knew! I like to think she was ashamed of her association," Marco confided.

"I'm sure she wasn't," the Yeerk disagreed.

"Agree to disagree," Marco told him.

Jake walked into the kitchen then and for the first and probably last time ever, I felt a wave of relief coming from the Yeerk at the sight of him. {Now he can take his weird friend off of my hands!}

{You don't have hands.}

{Fine, off of _your_ hands that might as well be mine for all intents and purposes as I'm controlling them if you absolutely must be so pedantic,} the Yeerk said dismissively.

{And you're getting him all wrong. Stop taking what he's saying so seriously,} I instructed.

{I still think you're just giving him too much credit,} the Yeerk opined.

"What's going on?" Jake asked, looking us over.

"Nothing, just killing time waiting for you," Marco said, hopping up. He quickly dropped his bowl off in the sink and headed for the door. "Come on, dude, we were supposed to be there an hour ago."

"You only came by twenty minutes ago!" Jake protested.

"If that's the way you choose to remember it…" Marco trailed off. He waved goodbye. "I look forward to number one hundred and fifteen."

"Number what?" Jake asked, puzzled.

"Don't worry about it," Marco said breezily.

{I've decided that perhaps the Sharing isn't for Marco after all,} the Yeerk declared.

I laughed. {I'm sure that if he had any idea about any of this, he'd consider that a job well done.}

Review Please!


	77. Don't Go

Don't Go

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

It didn't occur to me while I was planning to take Marco and Tobias and three others off on a probably suicidal rescue mission but when I saw my parents for dinner that night it hit me in full force.

I don't want to break my parents' hearts again.

They really don't deserve it and they've been through so much already. We were happy once so very long ago, back when it was still just the four of us and not the five of us or the three of us. It was six, maybe seven years ago depending on when exactly my brother was infested. It's about a third of my life since things changed and I was young enough that I can't even remember most of the good times.

Some of the tragedies happened over time but my parents were hit with them all at once. The Yeerks' existence, their presence here on Earth, Tom's infestation, my involvement in the war, their ignorance of our struggles, my identity being blown, their own infestation, my flight from home…And then soon there was Tom's death which ruined the end of the war and their freedom. Well, at least it ruined it for me and I'm sure that it wasn't as wonderful as it would have been for them as it would have been if Tom had been saved, too.

At least they still had me, though, damaged and lost that I am. And now I was taking that away from them, too.

My reasons for going hadn't changed. Ax was one of us and even if I hadn't seen him in months he always would be one of us and I couldn't stand to lose him like we'd lost Rachel. Ax's death, unlike Rachel's, wouldn't be my fault but if there was a chance that I _could_ save him but didn't…I knew myself too well to think that I would take that at all well.

And I had been in this… this 'funk' as Marco had put it for so long now. I was past the point where I could hope to one day snap out of it. Marco accused me of trying to fight a perfect war and I couldn't deny it, however much I wanted to. But…I don't know. Maybe if we succeeded the results would be the same or I'd end up even worse. But for the chance to get _better_…I have to risk it. If we fail I won't need to worry about living with myself anymore.

But I do want to succeed. Maybe not for my sake so much (what a relief it would be to just _let go_ but for Ax and Marco and my students. And my parents. Losing two children at nineteen…they didn't deserve that. Nothing could be done about Tom but I was still alive.

Tobias needs this, too. I've maintained that since he saved the world, it was his business if he wanted to spend the rest of his (undoubtedly short if he stayed a hawk) life hiding in a tree. But that didn't change the fact that he _was _spending his life hiding in a tree. It was such a waste, even given my own lack of direction and Marco becoming Hollywood.

I couldn't say anything, though, even if I had known where he was. Cassie said that Tobias didn't hate me but I'm not so sure. Either way, after my sending Rachel to her death sent Tobias fleeing for the trees in the first place, how could I possibly judge him for that? But I do want to save him.

Marco might have been getting bored and incapable of letting me go off on something like this without him but he'd have been fine without this. Jeanne and Santorelli would have been fine, too. Probably better off, actually, since they really can't know what they've signed up for despite what they've said. Mederash would have to live with the guilt of surviving but he'd be more likely to live, at least.

And then it keeps coming back to my parents. I can't tell them what I'm doing, of course. No one can know until we succeed and probably not even then. But am I really just supposed to disappear without a word? I didn't talk this over with the others but I can't imagine that Marco would do that to his parents after what happened with his mother and what that did to his dad and his childhood. I didn't know if Tobias would seek out Loren or if he'd seen her at all since the war ended. I hoped so but who even knew with him?

"Jake? Is everything alright?" my mom asked, concerned. She was always concerned these days it seemed. "You're not eating."

I had a sudden flash back to that first night after my infestation was over. That was the first time I was aware that I met the Yeerk who would one day force me to kill my brother. I had long since known that I would kill the Yeerk one day but I never wanted it to be like that. I'd have let the Yeerk live if it meant that I could have my brother back.

"I'm just not that hungry," I said, shrugging.

As predicted, my parents exchanged worried looks. T hose haven't really lessened over the years.

"I…have something I need to tell you," I said slowly. I didn't want to jump right into this because it was sure to ruin the mood and this very well might be the last time I'd even see them but it was all that I could think about and so they were just going to worry anyway. Besides, it felt dishonest and I really didn't need to feel _worse_ about what I was going to do.

"That doesn't sound good," my dad said, frowning.

"Well…it's not, I guess. I mean, it might have a happy ending but it's just so uncertain at this point that I couldn't tell you. But I know that either way you're not going to be happy." I was rambling, I knew, but I was terrified of their reactions so – despite my decision to just tell them – I was putting it off for as long as I could.

"Jake!" my mom cried out, her voice trembling a bit. "Just tell us what's going on. I'm imagining all sorts of things and the worst part is that I don't even know if I'm making it worse than it is or if I can't even begin to imagine what you have to say."

I looked down at my plate. There was no way I could break their hearts while looking them in the eye.

"I'm leaving Earth," I said bluntly then immediately winced. I hadn't meant to be quite that abrupt. Still, how did you gently break the news? I'm sure that Cassie would know but she's not here and I am and I just handled that very badly.

I glanced up to see how they were taking it.

My father had dropped his fork in his milk and it was slowly turning a light brown color. He probably wouldn't want to finish drinking that. His face had drained of color and his jaw was working frantically. His hands were clenched so tightly that it looked painful.

My mother's hand had frozen with her spoon halfway to her mouth but, despite the slight trembling, she didn't seem to notice. She was, if possible, paler than my father and she was rapidly blinking back tears.

It was a pretty extreme reaction but then it was a pretty provocative announcement. I had to say something else, anything else, to break the spell my words had cast over us all but for the life of me I couldn't think of a damn thing.

My mother was the first to find her voice. "Can you repeat that, Jake?" It came out surprisingly steady.

"I'm leaving Earth. Tomorrow," I added. It was best to just get it all out there and not force them to wrench it from me piece by piece. It was easier for me, as well, but my biggest concern right now was the people who I was going to essentially abandon. Again. And this time it was even intentional even if they had the bare minimum advanced warning.

"What? _Why_?" my dad practically exploded.

I hesitated.

"Jake! You can't just tell us something like this and then not tell us why!" my dad cried out, a clear plea in his voice.

"I'm sorry but I can't really talk about it," I said miserably, shaking my head.

"More secrets," my mom said bitterly. "I thought that when the war ended we were done with those. Secrets have never done this family any good."

"I know," I said, looking down again.

"Then why?" she asked simply.

"Because…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Because I have to. Because this is important."

"And you can't tell us." It wasn't a question. "Are you coming back?"

I took a deep breath. "Mom…"

"Just answer the question, Jake," my mom instructed.

"I hope so," I said honestly.

"So you don't know," my dad said hollowly.

"I _never_ know," I told him. "I don't. Anything we did back during the war, even the easiest and most simplest of missions, could have gotten us killed. And I don't want to promise you that I'm going to be fine when I'm not going to be."

"This _isn't_ the war," my dad said flatly. "The war is over, Jake, and has been for a long time."

"I know that," I said, stung. Did he really think that I didn't? "I just…this is something that I have to do."

"How can you possibly expect us to understand when you won't even tell us anything?" my mom demanded.

I sighed. "I guess I don't. I just didn't want you to wake up one day and realize that I'm gone and didn't give you any explanation."

"You're not giving us an explanation now," my dad grumbled.

"But at least I'm telling you that I'm leaving," I pointed out. "And I'm sorry but there's nothing you could say that would change my mind. I wish that there was but I have to do this."

"Why isn't this enough for you, Jake?" my mom asked quietly. "Why isn't any of it enough?"

I laughed grimly. "I don't know, Mom, but this isn't about that, I swear to you."

To my surprise, she nodded. "I know. You've never been one to take the easy way out, Jake."

"I'm sorry," I said lamely. It wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough but I felt that it should be said anyway.

"And yet you're going anyway," my dad noted.

"And yet I'm going anyway," I agreed.

My mom and dad exchanged a look.

"We'll be waiting for you, Jake," my mom said finally.

"No matter how long it takes, how long you're out there, we'll be waiting for you when you come back," my dad added.

I felt like I was going to cry. I didn't want to go but I couldn't stay.

One thing I knew was that I'd do everything in my power to reward that faith in me.

It's about time I stop disappointing the people closest to me, anyway.

Review Please!


	78. Trying to Understand

Trying to Understand

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Cassie's parents had started worrying when she didn't come back from supposedly fixing the water trough. Her mom started calling all her friends, starting with Rachel…Rachel called me. I called the others. Marco said something he didn't really mean about Cassie not being an Animorph anymore, so she wasn't our problem. Rachel knocked him on his butt. Marco is my best friend, but there are times I admire Rachel's directness. _

_- Animorphs #19. _

It's not like I'm wondering if this is my fault or not. No, I _know _that it's my fault, at least in part. So I'm left trying to figure out just how much of this can be laid at my feet.

I'm supposed to be the leader. I don't really know what I'm doing more often than not but that's no excuse. The others shouldn't have to suffer for my inadequacies the way that Cassie is now.

Cassie isn't really the impulsive kind, not the way that Rachel is. Her decision to quit seems pretty out of the blue but that just means that I've been missing the signs. She's been having doubts from the very beginning because, well, we're going out and killing people and whenever we kill a Controller then we kill an innocent victim as well. We all had our reservations (except maybe Ax, I don't know where he's concerned but he's not human so his culture and morality is different and he's actually in the military so it's not like if he doesn't care that makes him a terrible person) but we've all tried to put it behind us because it just makes our jobs harder and doesn't actually change anything.

All but Cassie and her deeply held conviction that all life is sacred.

This war has been hell for all of us but in different ways aside from the obvious. For my part, m y choices may one day get my friends killed and I can't do anything about my brother's Yeerk enslavement no matter how much I fight.

Marco doesn't know if his mother is even alive or not and he may never know or see her again even if she is alive.

Tobias lost everything as he became trapped in hawk form and unable to interact with anyone but us and maybe the Hork-Bajir.

Ax lost his brother in a horrible way and is stranded, maybe forever, on a strange Yeerk-infested planet. As far as we know he's the only Andalite on this entire planet save the Andalite the Visser is controlling. And, as Ax is quick to declare, that doesn't really count.

Rachel has always been reckless but that darkness in her is slowly growing. It's not really such a big deal _now_ but what if it doesn't stop growing? What if she continues to feed on the violence? And what would she do if one day the war ends and she's not ready for it to do so?

And Cassie…Cassie won't let any of this become any easier than it was the first time. I can respect that and I can understand it but I could never live that way myself. I'd go mad. Cassie's feeling the strain now. She still won't talk about that cop who had dragged her ot the Yeerk Pool and who had needed to be silenced. 'Silenced.' Like this is some sort of mobster thing.

And it's not even just the killing that gets to her. Way back before we found Ax, Cassie was freaking out because she thought that morphing a sentient species was the same as t he Yeerks controlling them and she had us all worried, too, until Marco had rolled his eyes and pointed out that we weren't copying or controlling a mind, only instincts. He then, less thankfully, continued that if Cassie really thought that ignoring instincts was akin to what the Yeerks do then she'd better make out with me right then and there.

So that was one crisis averted but Cassie sees moral dilemmas everywhere. Some I agree with and some I don't but few I have the courage to think about before Cassie brings it up.

And when the Ellimist offered us that phony choice to leave the war behind and go live in a human zoo (not that I still resent that) or something, Cassie was the first to think it was a good idea. In fact, she nearly _jumped_ at the chance. And sure, she said that she just trusted the Ellimist to know what he was talking about and have our best interests at heart. She compared us to raccoons (which I think offended us all at least a little) and was worried that we'd reject someone who only wanted to help.

And maybe that ws why she did it. But I can't help but notice that she was quick to want to escape this war.

I know that she took the host deaths brought on by our destruction of the Kandrona hard. We all did, especially because we had naively thought that the hosts would just be allowed to spread the word about the invasion. God, I had revealed my knowledge of the Yeerks to my almost-free teacher and if he had been taken again or captured or something…That was such a stupid risk and I could have ruined everything and for what? For a little bit of comfort? And I almost hadn't left when Chapman showed up. If Ax hadn't been there…

Ax who had known what would happen but hadn't said anything to warn us because Andalites don't believe in telling anyone anything ever (thank God he came around on that or Rachel and Marco would have likely killed him by now) . And if that wasn't enough, he all but accused me of not being willing to destroy the Kandrona because of the risk it would pose to Tom.

He _dared _to use that against me. I would have been worried, of course, but I would have done it anyway. It was too important not to. But the tragic consequences of our actions would have been easier for all of us to handle if we'd only known in advance. Or at least after we'd done it and before we started seeing the effects.

And then there was that chat room fiasco. Visser Three's twin was, predictably, a complete monster. Cassie uncharacteristically wanted his blood. He was a serial killer who went after at least ten and probably more people a month. I hate myself for it but my initial reaction was that those handful of dead Yeerks was enough to mitigate all those murders.

Later I realized that that was ridiculous. Not enough Yeerks were being killed to make a difference to the invasion and the Yeerk and human deaths were tit for tat. Cassie saw it immediately. I didn't let her kill him because he was unarmed and human and I knew she'd hate herself later but I didn't let anyone else kill him, either His house burned down, though, and he's since died.

That child with the Controller father…she was so upset that she had to tell him not to trust his father. I was pretty upset, too, because it was just a terrible situation but I accepted that it was the best course of action. This way he hopefully wouldn't get infested and if his father was any kind of a father he would want his kid to be safe, too. Cassie knew that it was the best choice, too, which is why she did it but she still felt that saving that child made her a terrible person. She's always too hard on herself.

The oatmeal incident that I never was able to take seriously and that nothing ever came out of. She knew exactly what we would be doing to so many people who would never, ever be free of an insane Yeerk convincing everyone that they were crazy because the Yeerk still had half of their life. Maybe brain surgery could eventually help them but I doubt that could be safely done until this war is over. Cassie wasn't happy about it but she still did it…or at least tried to.

And not that long ago, we somehow survived a nuke going off (and so did our town. I suspect the Ellimist's involvement) and were hurtled tens of millions of years into the past. Cassie killed a dinosaur, a creature that died an impossibly long time before she'd been born, and she took that harder than we thought she would. That should have been the neon flashing lights alerting me to the problem and yet somehow I didn't see it. I was busy at the time but we've had downtime since then.

Cassie didn't know that we would be the ones to wipe out the dinosaurs and the Mercora. No one but Ax and Tobias did and it must be even harder for them to live with themselves though I, for one, can't judge them. Whatever _we_ did, the dinosaurs and the Mercora were doomed. If we stayed and maybe gave them such extra time to live, we were just dooming our species by abandoning them when we still have a chance.

Cassie says that this can't possibly be the way that the dinosaurs originally died because they still died before we came back in time and so it's genocide (not that she's judging them either. No, she's too busy being angry at herself). Marco brought out the comic book lore and started talking about stable time loops and how if we caused the extinction of the dinosaurs then we _always_ had. I don't know which theory to believe but since I doubt I'll ever know, it's easier to believe Marco.

Now that I'm th inking about it, there were so many things (even beyond the normal horrors of war) that can push someone to their breaking point, particularly someone as sensitive as Cassie. But it's only looking back now that I can spot the clear warning signs so that's pretty much useless. Why didn't I notice it earlier? I could have helped her. I could have…But I didn't and now it's too late.

The straw that broke the camel's back was as trivial as these straws always are. We got into a fight at the Sharing (we hadn't really intended to but we have to consider the possibility that it will happen whenever we do anything) and I had called everyone off. Within five seconds of this, Cassie apparently killed another Hork-Bajir guard. She couldn't be sure about whether she attacked directly before, during, or directly after I said something.

Being Cassie, she will always believe in the goodness of everyone and everything else in the universe and be so much harder on herself.

It's easy to say that if I had just called them off a little earlier or later then this would not have happened but that's probably not true. This was only the catalyst, after all. If I still hadn't noticed the problem and she wouldn't admit it because she didn't want to seem weak or whiny, then it would just be one other unimportant event that would send her reeling.

When Cassie told us she wanted to quit, none of us took it very well. How could we? It just seemed so unbelievably selfish that she was going to walk away from _saving the world_ because she personally didn't like killing and didn't like how it was changing her. I figured that we'd just give her some time and she'd come to her senses. Rachel, especially, didn't appreciate Cassie saying she was going to quit so she didn't turn into Rachel.

I told her not to morph and that's where I think I may have gone wrong. Well, one of the ways. I shouldn't have just walked away, for one thing. I should have stayed with her and tried to see the deeper issue and made sure that she was okay. But I didn't. And yes, I did mean that she shouldn't morph but I thought that it was clear that if her life was at stake she should not let herself get killed or abducted or whatever in order to keep a promise.

I don't know what kind of mess Cassie could be in that wouldn't be solved by morphing. The Yeerks can't really be involved because if they were then Cassie would probably return infested and not go missing and we would definitely have been attacked as once they found one of us they'd find us all.

Cassie's missing and has been for almost a day now. We're looking but we really don't know what we're doing. We will find her eventually though, whatever it takes. After all, Cassie's one of us whether she likes it or not.

I don't know what will happen once we get her back or if she'll still insist that she quits. I don't know how we'll be able to have her in our lives if she does.

One thing that I _do_ know, though, is that we are going to find some way to fix this. We've ignored her pain for far too long.

Review Please!


	79. The Aftermath

The Aftermath

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_I won't beat around the bush," she said. "I have declared a state of emergency. I repeat: a state of emergency. This is not martial law. Our police, and even our National Guard forces, cannot be trusted." She glanced at the reporter. "The news media cannot be trusted. You may not even be able to trust your friends or your own family."She explained about Yeerks. About how, like an invisible disease, they have been infesting and slowly taking over the population. _

"_I know this sounds fantastic," she said. "Like something out of Hollywood. But by now you've seen the news footage. You know what I'm telling you is true. Our state, our nation, our entire world is under attack. But we are already fighting back. I have requested help from Washington, and the president has agreed to send U.S. troops." The governor shuffled her notes, looked into the camera again. "This is not the time for panic," she said. "It is the time for each and every one of us to reach into our souls and pull out the courage we may not even know we possess. Our enemy is strong. But we are stronger, because we are fighting for our lives and our freedom. For our very existence." _

_-Animorphs #51. _

The Yeerk was beyond angry when the governor's speech ended. It wasn't surprising. The Yeerks had spent almost a decade on a secret invasion that _felt_ like it was proceeding rapidly but that, objectively, was progressing slower than any other invasion the Yeerks had ever tried.

Most of the people that I interacted with were Controllers, especially after the reveal about Jake but that was no real way to measure it. The Yeerk sought out other Yeerks and strived to make those around me Controllers so he had to pretend less often. I never understood what it was that was so hateful about pretending to be me but with the Yeerk so determined to hate the pretence, there's little chance of him changing his mind.

I'd say that, after all this time, the Yeerks still control less than a fifth of the people of Santa Barbara. It's not like anyone's actually counted so I don't know how _much _less but less than a fifth seems like a nice, conservative estimate.

And now all of that's over with. Now that the governor has managed to tell the world of the Yeerk invasion, their precious secrecy is shot to hell.

{'Precious secrecy'?} the Yeerk scoffed. {Hardly. If anything, secrecy is more important to hosts.}

{We're supposed to _want_ no one to be aware while you slowly enslave the world?} I asked skeptically. {I don't think so.}

{Really?} the Yeerk asked innocently. {You _didn't _want your family and friends to ever learn about our presence.}

{That's different,} I insisted. {Of course I don't want them to get infested! But now people can learn about that without the accompanying Yeerk.}

{Maybe those that dwell elsewhere,} the Yeerk conceded. {For now. The people who live here, though…This message was the worst thing to happen to them.}

I thought I felt a chill then but it was hard to tell. {What do you mean?}

{Why, human, don't tell me that you haven't thought about the consequences of this little stunt!} The Yeerk practically cackled. {No one knew that this message was coming. We knew that the governor was still out there and going to complicate things but we _never_ imagined this.}

{Maybe you should have,} I said, tired of having my entire species continuously underestimated but also knowing that that underestimation could be useful for free people fighting the Yeerks. In fact, without that underestimation my brother's people would have likely been found a long time ago. It doesn't do me any good no matter _what_ the Yeerks think of me. And while they probably wouldn't have thought anything before, since everyone found out about Jake…well that had changed.

{It doesn't even matter. This isn't a good thing from your perspective,} the Yeerk announced.

{You can't tell me my opinion,} I snapped.

{Well if you have any sense then it won't be,} the Yeerk countered.

{You still haven't deigned to explain why this is the case,} I pointed out.

{Your governor linked the Sharing to us,} the Yeerk replied. {Imagine how many humans are watching this with one of us. What do you think is going to happen when they begin to suspect?}

I have to confess that that hadn't occurred to me although it really should have. This was so obvious. Of course the Yeerks would try to minimize the damage by infesting those that were there and had successfully identified a Controller.

{I told you,} the Yeerk said smugly.

He was far too smug these days in between his bouts of rage, frustration, and growing hatred for Visser One. None of it was very pleasant. I almost missed the days before things had changed and I wasn't even romanticizing it because I knew full well how much I hated those days. But at least then my parents were free and there and Jake wasn't a fugitive. And back then I didn't know how apathetic Jake was about my situation. It's one for the people you love to not know what's happened to you and it's another thing entirely to not _care_.

{That's only if they notice that the people around them have figured it out,} I finally said.

The Yeerk laughed. {Please. If you had just come to the Earth-shattering conclusions that not only were aliens real and invading but that someone close to you was a Controller you would _not_ be able to hide it and any of our people around a human would be looking for it.}

This was going to end in a lot of infestations, it was true. But just the same, not everyone could possibly be infested and if this could put more people on their guard and at least give them a chance to fight back then it was worth it. Maybe those unlucky souls who lost everything because of this wouldn't think so but I had to believe that.

{It's almost cute the way you assume that everyone will realize the truth now,} the Yeerk remarked idly.

{What do you mean?} I asked, puzzled. {There is news footage of the battle. The governor actually spelled out what happened. How can anyone _not_ get it?}

{You've clearly been one of us for so long that you've forgotten the way that humans think,} the Yeerk said, sounding far too pleased at this very depressing theory. Not that I buy it, of course. Well, I do agree that I've been a Controller for far too long but not about the rest of it. {They don't _want_ to believe it and so they simply won't. And they do so love feeling special for being the only ones that God loves enough to create. And let's not forget that some people still don't believe in the moon landing.}

{Well yes but…} I stop as I realize that he's right. With luck, most people will acknowledge the truth but there were always going to be people who denied it.

{And then there will be the people who insist that because we have superior technology we must be benevolent or that they should try to reason with us,} the Yeerk said, his mood rapidly improving as he continued.

{No one is that stupid,} I argued.

{Moon landing,} the Yeerk replied succinctly.

Well, he had me there. Maybe I could understand that, in the middle of the Cold War and the race to the moon or whatever, people might have to wonder if the government had _really _managed it. The sixties were nearly over and Kennedy had challenged the country to make it by the end of the decade. But it had been decades since then and there have been multiple flights since then. Sustaining such a fiction for so long...well, it could be done, I knew, but I didn't think the government back then could have done it. And it's not like the Yeerks have been here for three decades anyway.

{But what does being technologically advanced have to do with morality?} I demanded.

{I have no idea,} the Yeerk replied. {Perhaps people like to think that as they progress they become more enlightened and so people who progress to space flight are too enlightened to conquer anyone.}

{You pretty much stole all of your technology from the Andalites,} I pointed out.

The Yeerk bristled at that but didn't comment. Instead, he said, {They're not as enlightened as humans would prefer either. And as for fighting back…Oh, good luck with that one.}

{What?} I asked, affronted. Did he seriously have to be so negative about each and every aspect of this? It was practically a miracle that they had managed to stop the governor's infestation and get her to safety so that she could get her warning out (but if the Yeerks ever caught up with her….well…). This was a _good_ thing.

{Keep telling yourself that, Tom,} the Yeerk said, using my name for once. That was weird. {Our technology is such that we could destroy every city on your planet and you couldn't stop us.}

{Yeah, that's great, but you can't do that without wiping out a majority of the population and last time I checked that ran counter to your goals,} I pointed out.

{True but the last time that _I_ checked we really didn't need six billion plus hosts. If a few million or billion die to subdue your terrified populace then so be it,} the Yeerk said merrily.

{You're not just going to be able to scare people so badly about dying that they'd agree to _this_,} I objected.

The Yeerk sighed. {Just because _you_ decided that you'd rather die before we even met doesn't mean that everyone feels that way. And there are plenty of voluntary hosts even before we get started with the threats.}

{Then why not go after them and leave the rest of us alone?} I challenged. I didn't like the thought of Controllers in general and hated the voluntaries with a passion but if it was a choice between allowing the people fine with infestation to be infested or being a Controller myself…well, how could I feel differently?

{Because we are Yeerks and that is how we do things,} the Yeerk sniffed.

{You'd have to fight us down on the ground in order to take people and not decimate the population. Plus you need to remember that the only reason we're so valuable is because of our numbers,} I told him.

{And so what if we would? Hork-Bajir and even Taxxon can easily take any humans and our Dracon Beams are more effective than any human gun,} the Yeerk bragged.

{But we have the numbers, Yeerk. It would be a bloodbath but we could win. And isn't a bloodbath the exact opposite of what you want? That's why it's been a silent invasion until now,} I replied.

{Actually it was the former Visser One who insisted on it and given our almost sad lack of progress, I really have to wonder if she actually was a traitor after all,} the Yeerk corrected. {And the reason that this strategy has continued for so long is because the Council of Thirteen doesn't want to attract the Andalites' attention seeing as how we're planning on hitting them once we finish with Earth and we'd like to get that done as quickly as possible.}

{So what's changed?} I asked, honestly curious.

{At this point, it's beginning to look like the Andalites will never care about your tiny world and its bipedal and ignorant people,} the Yeerk informed me. {So there's really no need to hide.}

I hate it when he's right.

Review Please!


	80. On Andalite Infestation

On Andalite Infestation

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_{Cassie, he's coming to,} Aftran announced. {And he's starting to scream.}_

"_What's wrong?" I cried. "Am I hurting him?"_

_{No,} Aftran said, her voice suddenly flat. {He's screaming because there's a Yeerk in his head.} _

"_Ax, listen to me. The Yeerk is Aftran. She helped me save your life," I cried. _

_{He's totally freaking,} Aftran told me. {He's saying you should have let him die. He would have killed himself with his own blade before he let a Yeerk infest him.} _

"_He doesn't understand," I answered. _

_{Yes he does,} she insisted. {I'm coming out.} _

_My anger faded. Ax had been so sick. Then he'd come to and found a Yeerk in his head. One of the monsters who had killed his brother. No wonder he went off. H e probably thought he'd been captured and infested. He kept rubbing his ear. I knew he was feeling violated. Repulsed by what I had done to him. _

_-Animorphs #29. _

When Cassie was sure that I wasn't sick anymore and that Ax had fully recovered, she took me aside to share her concerns with me. I got the feeling that she thought that Ax was making a big deal of nothing and was being rather ungrateful but she still didn't want to see him upset and under the circumstances she really didn't think she could be the one to talk to him.

I actually agreed with that. In addition to Cassie being the one to have Aftran infest Ax in the first place, she didn't really _get_ why he was so upset. She understood intellectually that being infested was Ax's worst nightmare but the fact that it had been by a friend – sort of – and only for five or ten minutes in order to save his life meant that she couldn't relate for once.

Since I was the leader and the only other person with any experience being infested, she suggested that I talk to Ax about it. Well, technically Cassie had been infested, too, but it had been completely voluntary on her part to save a Yeerk who openly spoke of turning us in from Marco so that wasn't really going to have any common ground with Ax and we never actually talked about that anyway. It was just awkward given what Aftran could have done to us. Not holding it against Cassie was one thing but actually discussing it…yeah, it was for the best that we didn't.

To tell the truth, I was a bit freaked out by the incident as well. I could only imagine how I'd react if I had woken up to find myself a Controller, especially given my previous experience. My blind panic wouldn't really have lessened with the revelation that it was Aftran and it had been necessary to save my life. I fully supported Cassie on her decision to save Ax's life but I also understood where Ax was coming from. Death was better than being a Controller but if it was only five or ten minutes and he'd been unconscious most of that time…well, it seemed a little silly to die on principle rather than face that. Not that telling Ax that would be a good idea.

Personally, I didn't like talking about my infestation, either, but if I had to I could put it aside for Ax's sake.

I sought out Ax in the woods and I let him tell me all about his soap operas. Listening to him summarize them was always interesting because as an Andalite he had some very _unique_ ways of analyzing the shows.

Finally, I brought up what I had really come there for. "So you got infested, huh?"

It wasn't exactly a secret since Ax had used it to win our 'Who had it worse being sick?' competition and I thought the fact that he openly talked about it was rather a good sign.

Ax looked down. {I did indeed.}

Okay, he wasn't really giving me a lot to work with. "Do you want to talk about it?"

{I…don't know,} Ax admitted. {I don't even want to think about it but I can't seem to stop. It wasn't for very long but I've replayed every moment in my head over and over again. Perhaps if I do so enough times then it will lose all meaning like with those human songs Marco won't stop listening to.}

I couldn't help but smile at that. "We can only hope. Although to be fair, most of the songs that Marco listens to are _already_ without meaning."

{I am grateful to be alive, of course,} Ax continued quickly. {It's just that…}

"Given the choice you'd rather surviving didn't require a Yeerk?" I supplied.

Ax nodded jerkily. {Precisely, Prince Jake.}

"Don't call me Prince," I said automatically.

{Yes, Prince Jake,} he replied in a manner that I'm sure was just as automatic.

"I remember when it happened to me. I didn't regain consciousness already under a Yeerk's control but I did have to mentally flail around for a few minutes trying to figure out what was going on and why I couldn't move and what that weird voice was," I told him. "Fortunately, it soon mentioned 'Andalite filth' and that was a bit of a giveaway."

{I don't really remember very much of when I was sick,} Ax replied. {But part of me never expected to wake up at all. Brain surgery – even human brain surgery, let alone an Andalite surgery – is not something that children normally perform. But should I awaken I certainly did not expect it to be with a Yeerk in my head.}

"You were so out of it you wouldn't have known if the Yeerks _had_ captured you and they, at least, would be able to successfully perform the surgery," I concluded.

Ax nodded again. {Exactly. And even when Cassie assured me that that was not the case…It was a _Yeerk_. In my _head_. How could she do that to me?}

"She was trying to help," I said, shrugging.

{I think she was angry that I was…displeased,} Ax confided.

I sighed. "I think so, too. Sometimes Cassie's just so much more forgiving and understanding than any of us that she has difficulty understanding when we fail to be."

{I didn't _fail_ by not appreciating being infested without my consent!} Ax exclaimed. He tilted his head. {And by that I really mean infested period as I would never have consented to such a thing.}

"I know and I agree," I assured him. "But, well, Cassie co-founded the Yeerk Peace Movement. She's practically their golden girl or patron saint or _something_."

{I don't understand humans,} Ax said, sighing.

"I feel like Marco would want me to remind you that that's really not a _human_ thing," I said.

{When I came to the Yeerk was telling Cassie everything I was thinking and how I was reacting,} Ax said, shivering a little.

"Well, with Aftran there Cassie couldn't get the information from you," I pointed out.

{It doesn't matter. She could have…could have _let_ me speak for myself.} I could see that the words were painful. {Or she could have not mentioned it at all. Maybe just said that she was leaving now that her 'services' were no longer required. Do you have any idea how demeaning it is for someone else to broadcast your public thoughts to the world?}

"No, I don't," I said honestly. "The Yeerk in me was trying to convince you that he wasn't there and so that would have rather defeated the purpose. I can imagine, though."

{I'm never going to be clean again,} Ax declared.

"It'll fade," I promised. "I know it doesn't seem like that now but one day it will fade."

{I wonder what my people will say about all of this.} He sounded like he was trying to be casual but I saw right through it.

"All of what?" I asked him gently.

{I was a Controller,} Ax said simply.

"Ax, it was ten minutes at the most. That's hardly what anyone in their right mind would consider a former Controller. In fact, I'm not even sure what _I _went through would count all things considered and that was…" I briefly tried to do the math and then quickly gave up. "At least a thousand times longer than what you went through."

{Four hundred and thirty-two times as long as what I went through,} Ax said vaguely.

Okay, seriously, that wasn't fair. But Ax's amazing math abilities really weren't the point right now.

{My people would count it,} Ax said softly.

"That seems a little…" I hesitated, trying to find a word that didn't risk offending Ax. He could be quite sensitive where his people were concerned. I didn't blame him, being his people's only champion on this world. "Hard-core," I finally settled on.

{It's different for you,} Ax tried to explain. {Your people would probably not count your experience since the Yeerk was quickly detected and the situation contained. There are also a number of humans who have been enslaved by the Yeerks days or weeks or months or even years ago. My people do not have Controllers.}

I considered bringing up Visser Three but then I remembered that bringing up Visser Three _never_ helps the situation. Ever.

Ax misunderstood my silence. {I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you. It is not any inherent Andalite superiority that keeps us from getting infested so much as our full knowledge of what the Yeerks are and what they are capable of. And our tail blades. Those are very useful for escaping Yeerks and, if necessary, permanently going beyond their reach.}

I nodded. "Ax, I understand. My people largely don't know so I don't know how they'd react to people who are infested but I have to imagine that – for the involuntary ones at least – they'd pity them as victims."

{What about the voluntary ones?} Ax wondered.

I made a face. "There would probably be a great deal of judging. I mean, _maybe_ not when it's a case of sacrificing yourself to save someone like with Mr. Chapman but even that's debatable." I knew that I, at least, judged the hell out of them and so did Marco and Rachel. And Ax, of course. It was hard to tell what Tobias thought and Cassie was generally against judging...unless the person in question hurt animals or was racist.

{My people might see members of other species as victims,} Ax said slowly. {But to be honest we don't give a great deal of thought to the hosts at all. We don't really see the Yeerk Pools or know people before they were infested and that makes it harder to differentiate.}

I nodded again. The minute I discovered that Tom was a Controller it became very easy for me to see hosts and their Yeerks as entirely separate.

{And then there is the one example of the one Andalite who did get infested,} Ax continued, choosing to bring up the Visser of his own accord for once. We all have a problem with Visser Three. I have more of a problem than most of the others because his failure to lock the door or be in morph at the Sharing was what led to my brother's infestation in the first place but that was nothing compared to the issues that I'm sure Ax has but never talks about since Visser Three actually _killed_ his brother and quite horribly, too.

"Oh?" I prompted.

{When he was infested , it was a complete and utter disaster. Morale was at an all-time low and the Yeerks have continued to brag about it these past twenty years,} Ax told me.

I frowned. "Because they managed to infest _one_ Andalite in all of the years they've been doing this? That sounds like a pretty lousy track record."

{Infesting an Andalite isn't like infesting a human,} Ax insisted. {He wasn't a scientist but he did have a lot of valuable information, both about our military and just in general. It was the single biggest intelligence coup ever and we're _still_ feeling the effects.}

"Ax, Aftran has pretty cleanly broken her ties with the Yeerks. She's not even a Yeerk anymore and they'll never find her," I promised him. "That's not going to happen."

{And then there's the morphing technology. My people, as you saw aboard the _Ascalin_, do not…fully take advantage of their morphing power the way that Visser Three does. In addition to being very, very dangerous it is also rather embarrassing to be so upstaged by a Yeerk,} Ax went on, ignoring me.

"Ax, you know that's not going to happen," I said again, more firmly this time. "The Yeerk is gone. What are you afraid of?"

Ax started. {Afraid, Prince Jake?}

"Yes, afraid. What?" I asked again.

{The…reaction to what happened, I suppose. The Andalite the Visser is controlling's name is Alloran,} Ax told me. He'd already told us that a long time ago but I assumed that he had a point. {I didn't know that until the day I somehow managed to meet him and he told me himself. Everyone knew who he was, of course. He was infested before I was born but he's not Alloran to them anymore. No, he's _the Abomination_. Even I think about him like that although I'm trying to stop.}

I realized where he was going with this. "Ax, you're not going to be a second Abomination for this."

{No, they'd probably think of a suitably appropriate synonym so as not to cause confusion,} Ax said a little bitterly.

"I really don't think-" I started to say.

{Prince Jake, it may not make logical sense to you but believe me when I say that my people take the threat of infestation _very seriously_ but they paradoxically can't allow themselves to believe that it could ever happen to them. It's also only happened to one person so they've taken the approach of blaming an Andalite infestation entirely on the person who was infested and their own failure. There may not have been another way to save me and I may be fine now but it will not make the slightest bit of difference,} Ax said solemnly.

I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that it would make a difference but he was right. It was his planet and his people and I had only come to know a very select sample of them. And even if Ax _was_ wrong, he'd never believe me because I didn't know enough to be sure.

But I had to say something.

"Well then," I said finally. "I guess they don't really need to know, do they?"

That surprised him but he quickly smiled. {No, Prince Jake, they do not.}

Review Please!


	81. Back to the Pool

Back to the Pool

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_No," he said flatly. "__**Not**__ my mother. A Yeerk."_

"_Okay. Granted. But she needs you. She needs you and your friends."_

"_My friends?"_

"_Don't play stupid, Marco. I know you. What you __**are**__. What you __**do**__. You are needed. Now. As quickly as you can. You need to be seen."_

"_By who?"_

"_Visser Three."_

_-Visser_

"Since when does Marco get to call meetings?" Rachel asked, frowning. She actually looked a little jealous and I wondered if we would all have to deal with her calling her own meetings in the future. I couldn't decide if I'd rather those hypothetical future meetings were for stupid non-Yeerk things or not. On the one hand, a lot of wasted time. On the other...well, suffice to say that I have absolute faith in my dear cousin's ability to conjure up a crisis. "I mean, I can see why Jake would call meetings since he's the leader and why Cassie would call meetings since it's her barn but _Marco_? I'm starting to feel a little left out."

{Ax and I don't really call meetings either,} Tobias pointed out.

"Yeah but you _could_," Rachel replied.

{So could you,} Tobias countered.

"That settles it. I'm calling a meeting tomorrow," Rachel announced. Called it.

"You know, _some of us_ have a lot of homework to do and would rather not just have time-wasting meetings for the sake of having time-wasting meetings," I spoke up.

I expected Marco to gasp in faux-outrage and say something like 'Jake! Would I do that?' but he didn't. Something was seriously up. Cassie would probably be pestering him to 'share his feelings' or whatever but this was Marco and so that would never work. Besides, guys don't do things like that. Or at least Marco and I don't. I have no idea what goes on with Ax and Tobias. They probably had some kind of feeling-sharing session once Tobias got around to telling Ax that he was his nephew. I have no idea when that happened, just that it had happened awhile before Tobias casually mentioned as we were flying home from a battle one time and we were all too exhausted to complain about how long it had taken him to tell us.

{I was in the middle of a game with someone in Poland,} Ax told us instead.

"Were you winning?" I couldn't help but ask.

Ax fixed me with a look. {Of course I was.}

"What is your meeting going to be about?" Cassie asked tolerantly.

"I don't know," Rachel admitted. "What's Marco's meeting about?"

"My mother," Marco said flatly.

There was silence for a moment.

"Well, I can't use that," Rachel said finally. "My mother's really boring."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Cassie said encouragingly.

"Do you just want to talk about your mother or have you heard something new about her?" I asked him. It w as almost an unnecessary question. Marco _never_ just wanted to talk and he was practically allergic to the pity that people almost couldn't help but feel when hearing a sad tale. That was why when he was freaking out and Cassie was trying to be all comforting I instead chose to just order him to focus. It was surprisingly effect, too. Well, surprisingly effective for anyone who wasn't Marco.

Still, anything we heard about Marco's mother wasn't going to be good news for us and I didn't even want to know how he got ahold of information without any of us knowing. The Chee, perhaps? Erek did always tend to go to Marco with information on her.

"She called me today right after I got home from school," Marco announced. "Well, Visser One did."

"Are you kidding me?" Cassie couldn't believe it. "What if someone else picked up?"

"Then she probably would have just hung up," Marco replied. He considered. "Well, at least if it was my dad. I don't think that Nora would have recognized her voice. But at any rate, it was too early for anyone else to be home."

{What could Visser One possibly want with you?} Ax inquired. {Is she attempting to blackmail us with the knowledge of your identity?}

Marco winced. See, Visser One had figured out who Marco was because – despite our best efforts – he had been the only one available to speak to Visser One the last time we saw her. It wasn't _really_ my fault that the car I was in exploded and Cassie had to stay to talk me back to human but it did put Marco in a rather tough spot. He hadn't been able to stop making pop culture references (though, regardless of what Visser One seemed to think, Ax did occasionally make a few of his own. To be fair, he usually wasn't very good at it) and he hadn't been able to think of a good lie when Visser One remarked how she couldn't remember seeing any dead humans listed on any casualty reports.

He had thought of several later, of course, and made sure to share them all with me. His current favorite was 'This secret invasion serves our purposes as well and two many deaths would make the situation untenable.' The fact that I had to look up 'untenable' only made it sound more Andalite-like as far as I was concerned.

Marco was also convinced that Visser One was testing him since not only did Visser Three himself cause a lot of casualties but there had been people who had died the first time we had attacked the Yeerk pool and when we destroyed the Kandrona. There had been people who died when Erek got ahold of that reprogramming crystal and when we destroyed that shark-converting base.

No one's perfect but the fact that if it had been anyone else he was facing he would have seen through it and had a response ready on the spot was what really galled him.

And then as if it wasn't bad enough that she had pretty much concluded that we were human, he had to tell her that he loved her before sending her over the edge of a cliff. Now, I understand. _Believe me_, I understand. If I ever had to kill my brother I don't think I could do so quietly, either. But Visser One survives, it seems, and there were really only two possibilities once Marco threw out the 'l' word.

But the fact that she had just called him instead of having us all infested or killed (even if she somehow couldn't figure out who the rest of us were, Marco would be enough) was promising. Was it blackmail? What could she possibly want from us and how were we going to deal with this?

"Sort of," Marco confirmed. "There's not much she can _really_ blackmail us with since she hates Visser Three far too much to stop us by revealing our identity and making Visser Three's job a lot easier."

"Can she really hate him that much that she'd sabotage her own invasion?" Cassie asked incredulously.

{I don't see why not,} Tobias replied. {Remember, she let us go the first time she ever met us just to screw with him.}

"If you called her on her bluff – and I know you did – then what did she want? Or did you just want to let us know that she was still alive?" I inquired.

"Visser Three managed to capture her and, for some reason, she wants us to show up. She thinks it will help her cause and maybe even save her," Marco told us.

"That doesn't make any sense," Rachel complained. "Does she expect a rescue?"

Marco shook his head. "I'm not sure. She didn't ask me to save her and we couldn't really save Visser One anyway. Visser Three controls the Kandrona rays on Earth and I doubt she expects time to pack more of her suitcase Kandronas while we leave. It would save her from the Visser but she'd still die. Not that I have a problem with that but I rather doubt she'd bother calling us in to assist with her suicide. She said she just needed us to be seen."

I turned to our resident alien expert. "Ax?"

As always, he was reluctant to voice an opinion when he wasn't sure. {I can only speculate…}

"Your speculations are better than anything else we've got right now," I pointed out.

Ax nodded. {Very well. Visser One was demoted when we last saw her and Visser Three does not have a compelling reason to keep her alive all this time. If she can smuggle a phone call then she could smuggle a means of committing suicide if that was her only hope. How would merely seeing us help her? And even if Visser Three wants to torture her, keeping someone as dangerous and once-powerful as her alive all these weeks is foolhardy. I suspect that, because of her rank, she is in the middle of a trial.}

"A trial?" Rachel repeated skeptically. "You're kidding me. Yeerks have trials?"

{In a manner of speaking,} Ax replied haughtily. {They are not like human trials or Andalite trials. In fact, they are not like the trials of any civilized species though that is not surprising.}

Tobias decided to bite. {How so, Ax?}

{Only their leaders get them, to begin with,} Ax explained. {I do not know if even Sub-Vissers have trials. Anyone else is just executed or, in the case of non-Yeerks, infested. They are judged by the Council of Thirteen with no regulatory rules and the Council may do as it wishes. The accused may submit whatever evidence they choose to and enemies of the accused may also be present serving as a prosecutor of sorts. There are no lawyers.}

Marco nodded. "That makes sense. She was already in trouble for the shark failure and whatever else when she got demoted. But then why would we need to appear?"

A strange thought occurred to me. "Would anyone put it past the Visser to stage an attack to fake our deaths to get an upper hand in this trial?"

Rachel shook her head. "That would be stupid, though. What happens when we continue to attack?"

"Visser Three's not real big on long-term strategy," Marco pointed out. "And who knows? Maybe he claims it's another group of us. He looks better the more of us there are trying to stop him."

Rachel laughed. "Yeah, it's just the really incompetent group that decided to attack."

"Aren't we supposed to attack?" Cassie asked.

Rachel winced. "Ah, right. So did Visser One have any bright ideas? And where are we even supposed to go?"

"The Yeerk pool," Marco said hesitantly.

I frowned. "Marco-"

"I know, I know," he said, cutting me off. "Too secure. That's what I said. But she told me that in an hour and a half…which is about forty-five minutes from now, I think, there would be a fresh delivery of meat for the Taxxons brought in by transport ship."

{It's nice to see that not all of their food comes from people the Visser kills,} Tobias said wryly.

"The dome to the Yeerk pool opens up then and Visser Three told me where it was," Marco concluded.

{A new entrance to the Yeerk pool could prove useful,} Ax opined.

"Marco…are you sure we can trust her?" I asked uncertainly. I knew that he wanted to be there and this was less risky than some of our other trips to the Yeerk pool but something just felt off about it.

Marco snorted. "Trust her? No. But if she wanted to trap us she doesn't need to resort to subterfuge. For God's sake, she called me at home! But she really needs this. And we already know we can trust her hatred."

I took a deep breath. "Well, then. Is everybody ready for a trip back to the most magical place on Earth?"

"You know, I bet he's not even really taking us to Disney World," Marco snarked.

Well, at least he was feeling better.

Review Please!


	82. The Joys of Boxing

The Joys of Boxing

Disclaimer: I do not own Anirmophs.

"_What do you mean, 'what's up'?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "The fight's on tonight. Forty dollars on Pay-Per-View. Corn chips, bean dip, loud grunting male noises, beer – for me – soda for you and Tom." _

_I practically slapped my forehead. The fight! I'd totally forgotten. It was a big thing. Not because I'm a boxing fanatic. I'm not. But it was a big thing for my dad to actually spend forty dollars on Pay-Per-View. He was doing it as a male-bonding, father-son thing. Me and him and Tom, and probably one or two of my dad's friends from work. _

_-Animorphs #11. _

I swear, I do not understand kids these days. I'm sure that all parents say that about their children and so I guess I'm in good company.

I know that Jake's never been as interested in sports as his brother and that Tom's sport of choice was always basketball before he decided that the Sharing was more important than his future. No, I shouldn't say that. The Sharing is a wonderful organization, I'm sure, and Tom is always out cleaning up this road or helping out with that soup kitchen. I just wish that his involvement with them wasn't slowly taking over his life and…

No, that's still not right. I wish that it were taking up less of his time but it's his choice. It's not like the Sharing is some kind of cult or something for all that I don't see how anything less than membership in a cult could possibly explain Tom's sudden disinterest in the sport that he's spent the last decade or so of his life living for and…

As much as I hate to admit it, there might be a reason that it took Tom three weeks to tell me that he quit the basketball team. It hurt like hell to realize just how long he had waited but I can't say that I reacted well. I reacted far better than I _wanted_ to and maybe that was part of the problem.

It's not fair, I know, because I'm sure the Sharing is a wonderful place (everyone has such wonderful things to say about it and I've never heard so much as a complaint against it which is rather weird when you think about it…Stop it, Steve) but I can promise right now that I am never going to join it and I am never going to tell Tom why.

It would _devastate_ him to know that I'm not ever going to get involved with something that means enough to him to give up _basketball_ for because of his decision but there you have it. Oh, sure, there's also the fact that I'm really busy and evidently the Sharing takes up too much time to have a couple of hours a week for sports but…really, it's the basketball. I haven't even told Jean that but I'm almost positive that she knows but is too tactful to say anything. If I don't want to join a club then I don't want to join a club and as long as I don't tell people why the reasoning doesn't even matter.

But anyway, that's not the only reason I don't understand my sons. Boxing isn't really their thing but in the past whenever we watched something like this together (though I wasn't being ripped off with a forty dollar fight then) they at least pretended to be interesting. Now, although Tom and Jake may glance up at the screen occasionally, I can see Tom staring at his watch while Jake's eyes are fixed on the kitchen clock.

I really don't get it. The fight hasn't been going on for _that_ long and if they're that bored (both of them!) then why don't they say something? Are they trying to spare my feelings because they know how much I want them to be here for this? My sons are well-mannered and respectful young men so that's always possible but if that's the case then wouldn't they at least pretend to be paying attention? Even just zoning out while glancing in the area of the television would be more convincing than what they're doing.

Where can they possibly have to be at 7:30 at night? And it's probably going to rain soon, anyway. It's a good thing I'm taping this so we get replay value and that Pete and Dominick are here or else their clear disinterest might get a little awkward. As it is, maybe if I don't draw attention to it then we can all just pretend that they want to be here. I don't want to have an argument with them about how they really _do_ want to be here when I know that they don't which I know would happen if I tried to confront them about their clear desire to leave. You can lead a horse to water…

Thankfully I had my friends to keep me in the moment or I might start tuning out as well and I did _not_ just pay forty dollars to ignore this fight.

"Oh, come on!" Pete complained. "What kind of a match is this?"

"I don't see what the problem is," Dominick replied. "What, you want another match that ends in three rounds?"

"Well I certainly don't," I declared. "That makes it thirteen bucks a round and this fight is already a rip-off without having to get _insulting_ about it."

"Well, maybe not three rounds," Pete allowed.

"You know, Steve, I'm almost getting the impression that you think this fight was overpriced," Dominick joked.

"Wherever you got that idea, I don't know," I deadpanned. "That's why I order ridiculous expensive things like this every weekend."

"Yeah, I don't know either," Dominick replied. "If I could just put my finger on it…"

"You did choose to order it and then wouldn't let us chip in," Pete pointed out.

"Yeah because expecting you to fork over thirteen bucks would make me feel like I'm back in high school and can't afford to pay for the whole fight," I told them.

"As someone in high school myself," Tom spoke up, revealing that he was paying at least a modicum of attention after all, "I have to say that I'd probably just get you to pay for it."

"That wouldn't work," I insisted.

"So you say…" Tom said, clearly not believing me.

I don't blame him. I'm not sure that I believe me either. Giving him forty dollars to watch something seems a little excessive, true, but I've always wanted the best for my children and it's not like either of them are spoiled so why not? Presumably they'd pay proper attention to whatever it was that was that _they _chose to watch but they wouldn't properly appreciate it until they had to spend their own hard-earned money. I don't know what minimum wage is but it seems like a good seven or eight hours worth of labor. But maybe six if they've raised it since the last time I checked…twenty years ago.

"Besides," I said, ignoring Tom, "Pete got the next fight and Dominick's on the hook for the next one."

"There's this awesome one I heard about that cost fifteen dollars," Dominick said enthusiastically.

Pete laughed. "Sounds good, sounds good. Of course, then you'd need to get the next one, too."

"That's not fair, yours was only thirty!" Dominick protested.

"Steve?" Pete looked to me for support.

"Sorry, Dominick, but I gotta go with Pete on this one. His might have been cheaper but he wasn't trying to rip us off," I told him.

Dominick crossed his arms. "Fine. Then I'm charging admission."

"Then _I'm_ charging admission," I countered, holding out my hand. "That will be thirteen bucks."

"What happened to not wanting to feel like you were in high school?" Dominick challenged.

"Maturity is overrated," I said, shrugging.

"I feel like maybe this isn't setting the best example…" Jake muttered.

"So it's not like I want another three round fight," Pete said, apparently picking back up with what he had been saying earlier. "It's just that this is round _seven_ and they don't even look tired! How can I believe that they're really trying to beat the shi-stuffing out of each other when they're not even breathing hard?" He cast an uncertain glance towards my boys. It wouldn't have really been a big deal if he had just said the word but Jean and I do jump on them whenever they swear in front of us so I guess it's good not to have a double standard.

"Have you not been _watching_ this fight?" Dominick demanded. "They've been quite dedicated to killing each other for more than half an hour now!"

"Then how can they still be so not exhausted?" Pete challenged.

I shrugged. "Maybe they're both just in really, really good shape. This is the boxing championship after all."

But Pete shook his head. "Oh, no. No way. No one's in _that_ good of shape."

"Just because _you_ might not be…" I teased.

"I don't see you managing that either," Pete retorted.

"Then it's really a good thing that I chose not to aspire to be a boxing champion," I said easily. "Well…after I turned fourteen, at least, and was hit with a heavy dose of something I'd like to call 'reality.'"

"And it's round _eight_!" Pete complained. "Dear lord, we're going to be here all night, aren't we?"

"If you have somewhere else to be, Pete, no one's forcing you to stay," I pointed out.

"Ah but now I've invested so much time and energy into this thing that I've just got to see it to the end," Pete replied.

Dominick glanced down at his own watch. Unlike certain people, that was the first time he'd looked at hit since the match started. "It's only 7:41. That's not very long."

"It is in boxing years," Pete retorted. A quick glance at Tom and Jake showed me that they were just as antsy as Pete was if not more. He might be complaining but he didn't look like he actually wanted to run for the door. And I didn't care what Pete said, this was a good fight.

"I think you mean 'minutes'," I said, frowning.

"Do I? Do I really?" Pete asked me.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "You do. Or at the very least you should."

One of the fighters landed a lucky uppercut just then.

I winced. "Oh, that had to hurt!"

"Five bucks says he goes down," Dominick said quickly and, sure enough, he did.

I laughed. "Five bucks? Seriously?"

"I didn't want to set a bad example by gambling," Dominick said, a little embarrassed.

Pete laughed. "So, what? You thought you'd compromise by being so lame that no one would want to emulate your bet?"

Jake jumped up and popped the tape out of the VCR before announcing that he was going to Marco's. Maybe _some of us_ would have liked to continue taping and get some of the post-fight coverage. But hey, if he wanted to show Marco immediately instead of just inviting Marco over like I'd offered then that was his business.

Maybe he'd even pay attention to the fight the second time.

One thing I was sure of was that I was not going to be spending forty dollars on Pay-Per-View for my sons ever again. I'd enjoyed it but clearly the finer things in life were wasted on them.

Review Please!


	83. The Mount Rushmore Scare

The Mount Rushmore Scare

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_He grinned at me and said, "They'll carve your sanctimonious face up on Mount Rushmore, Jake-Boy. You'll be the savior of the human race."_

_-Animorphs #53._

_Jake was on his way to becoming this icon, this national hero figure. He had that whole tragic-hero thing going on. People knew about him sending his cousin to take out his brother and they ate it up. I am not kidding when I say that some congressperson actually suggested carving his face onto Mount Rushmore. Nothing came of that, fortunately…_

_"How often do you see him?" I asked._

_Marco started to answer, stopped, gave a guilty shrug. "Officially? As in, I see him and he sees me?"_

_"Ah. You're spying on him?"_

_"I'm still an Animorph. I still like to fly. Maybe I'm in eagle morph and I happen to see him?"_

_-Animorphs #54_.

I found out from the internet first. I'm not one of those people who Googles themselves (why bother? I already know that there will be a disturbing number of hits and some of what Marco tells me that he finds when he Googles _himself _- because of course he would - convince me that I'm really better off not knowing) but when I log into my email account some of the top stories appear in little blurbs and one of them attracted my attention.

"Congressman Proposes Animorph Addition to Mount Rushmore."

Now that sounded like something best left to the imagination of tabloid reporters.

I couldn't help myself. I had to click on that story. I figured that it was probably about me because, really, there's not that much room on Mount Rushmore and so if they had to pick one person they'd pick me. People barely remembered Rachel and Tobias (I had no intention of writing a book but if I ever did one day it would be about those two heroes that no one bothered with) and Tobias was thought of more as a bird than a boy these days and maybe had been for a long time. Ax was an alien so there was no way he'd end up on a great American monument.

And out of Cassie and Marco and I, I was somehow the one far more likely to be aggrandized like this.

I wish I hadn't read the article, I really do.

I understand that people need their heroes. I can even accept that, being the leader of the group that beat the Yeerks, people need _me_ to be one of those heroes. But there are some actions that should never be praised and that's something that the public has never gotten. The very deeds that earn us our medals are oftentimes the last ones that we want to be reminded of.

Well, I've received my fair share of medals and I even have a footlocker but I can't use it until I move out one day. I probably should at some point but I'm sure not feeling it. Mom won't let me hide the medals away from the world and while I'm living in her house I figure that I should probably follow her rules. I guess she wants to remember the sacrifice or something.

The article mentioned the usual claptrap about how remarkable I must be to have fought on against such impossible odds (such an American ideal, the article had insisted), about how young I was and how hopelessly outnumbered. It really did paint me as someone out there tilting windmills although the tone was a little more positive than Don Quixote's had been.

But then…then it had gone on to talk about Rachel and Tom. The article hadn't been trying to hurt me, of course. The article had likely never expected to be read by the likes of me. But it had been and I was forced to read all about how my dedication to my goal – the freedom of all people regardless of nationality or ethnicity, apparently – and steadfast determination knew no bounds. How I had "valiantly" sacrificed two members of my own family when I had ordered my cousin to kill the Yeerk in my brother's head.

It's funny, really. I suppose I could be biased but I was there and they were not and I don't remember anything particularly valiant about the situation.

What I do remember was Rachel flying there beside me and telling her that she needed to die and she needed to go without any goodbyes to make things easier on the rest of them even as it made it that much harder for her to leave. I remember feeling nothing as I coldly ordered the execution of my brother and sent my cousin on a suicide mission.

I remember Rachel being so impossibly brave when she realized that it was the end. She didn't ask me why or protest about how unfair life was. She didn't even get angry on her own behalf but she had time to get angry when she thought I didn't trust Cassie. Cassie who really should have been the least of her worries right then.

I remember Rachel refusing to cry when that polar bear she'd already beaten fair and square stood looming over her and promising the end. I remember how she'd smiled and how her last words were expressing her love for Tobias.

I remember how Rachel was terrified but determined. She didn't want to die but she was strong enough to go anyway. Sure she had risked death hundreds of times but there's a difference between a possibility – even a probability – and a certainty. I remember how she refused to even blame me for the future I was stealing from her and the pain of everyone who loved her. I remember that she pleaded with me not to blame myself.

I couldn't grant her last request.

And that's not all that I remember.

I remember watching my brother's real, human form disappear for the last time. I remember the way his eyes burned with the Yeerk's hatred. I remember the horror in his voice when he realized that I was alive. I remember the cold way he'd tried to dispose of Rachel. I remembered that without him and his blinding venom she might not have been caught unawares but that remorphed polar bear. I remembered that his last words (the Yeerks, at least. Who knew what his real last words were, both out loud and to the Yeerk?) were begging me not to let Rachel kill him. And even then, even with Rachel moving him to her mouth to bite down on I knew that he didn't think that I'd do it.

_That's_ their valiant heroism? That's what they want to reward?

I realized that I was shaking so it was a good thing I was already sitting down. My hands were grasping the arms of the chair so tightly that they were turning white but I couldn't feel any of that.

I remembered something else, too. I remembered Tom – the Yeerk in his head – smirking and declaring that people would carve my sanctimonious face on Mount Rushmore one day for saving the world. He didn't mean it, of course. He didn't think anyone would be so stupid. He didn't expect me to survive the next twenty-four hours. He didn't expect that the Earth would be saved at all once the Andalites showed up and my people were all dead and unable to stop them from making a big mistake.

And now it was happening.

Marco burst through the door then, not even bothering to knock. He glanced quickly at my computer screen. "It's just some guy's dumb idea, Jake, and probably a publicity stunt to boot. It doesn't mean anything. This isn't going to happen."

I didn't ask what he was doing here or how he had known that I had just gotten some very bad news. Somehow, Marco always managed to be there when I needed someone. That was why, despite everything else and how long we sometimes went without seeing each other, he was – now and forever – my best friend. And, as my best friend, he never needed me to say that which was good because I wasn't sure that I even could at this point.

"You don't know that," I said numbly.

"Yes, I do. That thing was built like a hundred years ago and it honors some of the most significant _presidents_. And let me tell you, if we don't have FDR up there then we're not going to have you," Marco insisted. "And don't even tell me that he didn't save the world because Nazis were bad news for everyone."

"Did anybody ever propose that he be carved up there?" I asked rhetorically.

Marco shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't matter if they did or not because it didn't happen."

"Maybe they figured one Roosevelt up there was enough," I suggested.

Marco blinked. "Wait, they have another Roosevelt up there?"

It didn't surprise me that Marco was a little uninformed about national monuments. He was extremely well-informed on things that held his interest but history had never really been one of those things. I opened my mouth to respond.

Marco shook his head. "No, wait, don't bother. It doesn't matter. I know you're insanely popular and all but so was Kennedy and no one put him on Mount Rushmore."

"Kennedy didn't save the world," I argued.

Marco snorted. "Tell that to his fans. And do the words 'Cuban Missile Crisis' mean anything to you?"

"Of course, I'm just surprised that they mean something to you," I shot back. I then blinked, startled. Where had that come from?

Marco evidently took it as a good sign as he grinned at me. "There you go. But it was so much easier to save the world during the Cold War. All you had to do was stop someone from blowing the world to hell."

"What's your point?" I asked tiredly. I wondered briefly if he even got why I was so upset about this but in the end it doesn't matter. He's still going to try to fix this regardless.

"My point, Jake, is that this is just one guy being an idiot. He knows that it will attract lots of attention and get him some popular support since he's supporting the guy who saved us all-" Marco began.

I winced. "Don't do that."

"Since he's supporting _you_," Marco agreeably amended. He understood. He always understood. And he had enough experience from needing me to understand to know not to say anything even though by now prodding at people was practically instinctual. "But ultimately it's not going to happen. There will be a lot of buzz about this but it's just that. Buzz. No one's going to go changing Mount Rushmore."

"I don't know how you can promise me that," I said. I wanted to believe him, I really did. I just wasn't sure that I could. That sounded like just the thing that _would_ happen to me.

"Simple," Marco told me. "Because if it _does_ and you can't manage to convince them that you prefer to leave Mount Rushmore to the _real _American heroes or preserve the sculpture's integrity or whatever then I will just have to keep sabotaging construction until they give it up as a bad job."

I actually laughed at that. Marco was a good friend. "I don't even want to know if you mean that or not."

"That's probably for the best," Marco agreed. "Plausible deniability and whatnot."

Review Please!


	84. Dr Greyfield

Dr. Greyfield

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Once, for two days I had to morph Prince Jake and pretend to be him. I was successful in fooling his parents and brother. Although I later learned that his parents believed "he" had become mentally ill. When the real Prince Jake returned, they took him to see a doctor. _

-Animorphs #8.

"Hello, Jake," Dr. Greyfield greeted me as he sat down in the chair a few feet away from my own chair.

It's five o'clock the third Monday of the month and that means it's time for one of my appointments. I also have appointments on the first Monday of the month as well. I really don't have time for this but there was really no arguing with my parents. And trust me, I've tried. I've tried to the point where they actually started refusing to acknowledge my presence whenever I started to bring up the topic or they thought I was about to. Drastic measures, perhaps, but I can be quite persistent.

I can only ask them so much about what happened without making them worry even more because I clearly have no idea what went on for those few days Ax replaced me. We kept his contact with my family brief but it was already enough to convince them that I needed serious help. I can ask Ax anything I want to about the incident and he's glad to help but he just honestly doesn't know what he did wrong. It makes sense; if he did then he wouldn't have done it in the first place now would he have?

As such, I was stuck going to these therapy sessions until such time that they were convinced that I was fine. Or until I turned eighteen. Whichever happened first.

Unfortunately, even without the doctor having no idea what had caused my brief fight with sanity, I _did_ have sufficient issues that I should probably have therapy for but can't. We checked Dr. Greyfield out so we know that he's not a Controller (or, well, wasn't as of three months ago and he never was tried to get me to join the Sharing like you'd expect a Yeerk therapist who was targeting vulnerable humans to do) but my story of fighting aliens will only get me infested or convince the doctor to never, ever let me leave therapy.

Since I might actually enjoy the chance to talk about the fight to someone that I'm not supposed to appear brave and fearless in front of, the fact that I have someone right here inviting me to talk but _can't_ is driving me crazy.

As is the fact that my perception of therapists is that they treat people who are crazy, have serious problems, or are just really lonely. I have serious problems so that doesn't do much to dispel my fears and I always hate it when I see someone else go in or out of one of the therapists' offices or in the waiting room. What are they thinking of me? I know that I'm all wondering what's wrong with them which might explain why I can't help but feel judged. It doesn't matter, I know it doesn't, and I certainly have bigger problems but I wonder anyway.

My parents both swear up and down that I'm wrong about therapists and lots of perfectly normal people go to them and maybe they're right but…they didn't take _me_ to one because I'd been perfectly normal now did they?

"Hello," I said back. I was a little surprised that there was no couch in here like you see on TV and in movies but I wouldn't have felt comfortable being so vulnerable as lying down while he was sitting up watching me and controlling my fate. Not that I'm being melodramatic or anything.

"So what's been going on with you?" Dr. Greyfield asked me. He barely said anything in these sessions, I'd noticed, leaving me to ramble on for half an hour. I'm really not a rambler and hiding so much already and so this is annoying.

Well, last night I nearly got myself decapitated by Visser Three and it was only Tobias happening to spot the problem and his quick thinking by dive-bombing the Visser that I survived. That was careless of me and it can't happen again because I can't always depend on someone else to save me. They gladly will, every time, but it's just not fair to them.

I shrug. "Nothing, really."

"Now, Jake," chided Dr. Greyfield gently. "You always say that and I'm sure it's not true. It's been two weeks since our last session, after all."

That was true and plenty had happened but what could I possibly say that would both be of any interest and be fine to share? But then, why did it have to be of any interest? It didn't really matter to _me_ if Dr. Greyfield thought I was the most boring person he had ever had this misfortune to meet (oh, if only my life could be that simple) and he was being paid to listen anyway. I didn't know exactly how much he was being paid but he was a doctor and my dad kept complaining about the bill so it must be a lot.

"Well, today Cassie sat next to me on the bus," I told him.

Dr. Greyfield smiled pleasantly and nodded encouragingly. "Oh?"

"She doesn't always do that but today she did," I told him. "We held hands." What else was there to say on this topic? It really didn't feel like there was anything left to say but I wasn't out of time yet and we couldn't just sit there in silence, could we? No, he'd probably let me but then tell my parents that I'm not making any progress. "It was nice."

"Tell me about Cassie, Jake," Dr. Greyfield requested.

"Um…she's really nice. Probably the nicest person I've ever met. She's also really brave. She'll stick her hand down a wolf's throat no problem if she needs to give it its medicine. She's really caring and she always knows just what to say to make you feel better. And she's really pretty, too, even though she doesn't think so," I told him.

She believed that all life was sacred, even those of Yeerks. Killing made her ill but she was willing to do it when she had to. She rarely complained even though I was sure that she always wanted to. People thought that they could take advantage of her because she's sweet but she has a spine of steel and won't tolerate being manipulated. If I wasn't there, there's nobody I'd trust more to make the tough decisions.

"Have you told Cassie how you feel about her, Jake?" Dr. Greyfield asked me.

And it looked like we had a topic. I could work with this for a little while and see how much time I could eat up. I had no idea how people could willingly want to go to therapy. It was exhausting, it really was.

"I…no," I admitted, looking down.

"Why not?" Dr. Greyfield pressed.

"Well, I guess I really don't need to. I mean, I know that I like her and I know that she likes me. She probably knows how I feel about her, too, but…I don't know," I said, shrugging.

"Are you happy with how things are?" he asked me.

"I guess so," I said, shrugging again. "I mean, we've never kissed but I'm not sure that I'm ready for that. I'm sure I'd do something stupid like miss or do it wrong or something."

"First kisses aren't supposed to be perfect, Jake, and maybe Cassie has never kissed anyone either," Dr. Greyfield suggested.

"Yeah but…I don't know. It would just feel awkward telling everybody how we feel. Marco and Rachel already make jokes," I told him. "Marco's my best friend and Rachel's my cousin and Cassie's best friend."

"I remember who they are," Dr. Greyfield replied. "Does it bother you when your friends say those things?"

I was surprised. "Well…Yeah. Of course it does." To think that this was the kind of stuff that worried me back before I found out about the Yeerks. To think that despite everything that had happened I still couldn't stop worrying about it completely. The joys of being a teenager in a clandestine war.

Dr. Greyfield nodded like he had expected that. "Why?"

I decided to play dumb. "What do you mean, why?"

He either didn't get it or decided to let me as he elaborated. "Why does it bother you when your friends say that you have feelings for Cassie? You've admitted that it's true and that she returns those feelings."

"Yeah, I know. It's silly but I just do. Maybe when I'm older I won't be so embarrassed but right now…not every guy will even admitting to liking girls and it's embarrassing when you do, even if they like you back," I tried to explain. _If_ I live old enough, I guess, to stop being embarrassed. I really hope that I do.

"I see," Dr. Greyfield said, careful not to any inflection in his tone so I had no idea what he was thinking. Probably about how trivial my problems were and how none of this had anything to do with the reason I had been brought in. Or maybe I'm just being cynical and turning into Marco.

"Besides, Cassie and I don't really _need_ to talk about it. It's just one of those unspoken things, you know?" I asked rhetorically.

Dr. Greyfield nodded. "I have heard of such things, yes." It's like therapist aren't actually allowed to mention anything about themselves or something. And who knows? I might be right.

I glanced at the clock again. I was trying to watch it as little as possible so as to try not to be so painfully aware of the time going by but it really wasn't working. It felt like forever but it had really only been ten minutes and I had already exhausted the topic of Cassie. I guess I could tell him that I was upset that Tom and I were growing apart but that would probably lead him to suggest we spend time together and, Yeerk or not, the Sharing seemed like the logical way for me to do that since he was always asking me to join and spent so much time there anyway.

And if he went to my parents with that idea…well, it would just never happen. Even if my parents told me that I had no choice in the matter and I was going to the Sharing no matter what (which I doubted that they would) then I would still defy them and accept the grounding if I absolutely must. It would be annoying but _nothing_ was worth the risk of infestation and of ruining whatever chance our planet had. It wasn't much of a chance, true, but that didn't mean that we should actively sabotage it or that the Yeerks wouldn't make good use of five new morph-capable host bodies.

There were still seventeen minutes left in this seemingly-endless session.

"Jake?" Dr. Greyfield asked, a little concerned.

I shook my head. "Sorry. I was just thinking. My teacher, Mr. Pardue, had a nervous breakdown recently and I can't help thinking about it. We actually saw the start of it before Mr. Chapman made us leave…"

Review Please!


	85. Goodbye, Jake

Goodbye, Jake

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_{But Elfangor's dead, Jake.} Of course. {And so are you.} Dead? Then how could I be free? {Ten years ago tonight, Tom put it all together. He came into your room and murdered the leader of the Animorphs. Rather than let Visser Three know that one of the notorious "Andalite bandits" had gone undetected for so long right under his nose, Tom ended your life. Your own brother…}_

_-Animorphs #41. _

This can't be happening.

{You always say that and yet it always is,} the Yeerk said absently.

{You're making a mistake,} I said desperately.

{You may very well be right,} the Yeerk agreed. {And, you know what, I rather hope that I am.}

{Then why do this?} I asked, my mind racing to find something – anything – that could stop this.

{You're wasting your time. And I'm doing this because I can't risk being right,} the Yeerk explained.

{What's so bad about making absolutely sure?} I cried out.

{It's been more than two years since the 'Andalite Bandits' appeared on the scene,} the Yeerk replied. {At first it was fine as they weren't doing much damage and they successfully distracted the Visser from his impatience with the slow pace of the invasion. But now…we don't even know how many of them there are. Maybe half a dozen or so. But it's definitely not enough to justify the difference they're making.}

{Difference?} I repeated, momentarily distracted.

The Yeerk sighed impatiently. {Yes, making a difference. Don't' tell me you haven't noticed the massive damage they've been dealing out. Even tonight when they technically failed in their mission, they still inflicted heavy casualties and they all got out alive. Again. It's absurd to think of when we are thousands and they a mere handful but we can't afford these constant heavy losses.}

Despite going everywhere he goes and seeing and hearing everything that he sees and hears, I had really had no idea. What should have been _good_ news was tainted by the current circumstances.

I had always been a fan of the Andalite Bandits. Why wouldn't I be? When I first got infested, the horrors of infestation were compounded by the fact that free humans had no idea what was happening and couldn't even _try _to fight, let alone succeed. The Andalites seemed the best hope given how much the Yeerks hated and feared them but they were nowhere to be found.

And then it got worse when they finally _did_ arrive and were summarily slaughtered in less than an hour. Maybe they wouldn't be such a help after all. But before I could really come to terms with that, the Andalite Bandits raided the Yeerk pool and brought hope back to life. I don't know if it was their intention or not but it certainly worked and not just on me. Finally we had someone who was ready and willing to fight here on Earth.

And it felt like I actually made a difference, that – slave or not – I actually did something that mattered and did my part in the fight against the Yeerks when I distracted the Visser and allowed the trapped tiger to escape. Strictly speaking, the Andalite Bandits hadn't been that impressive once the Visser showed up. They ultimately got away with one free woman (better than nothing, I suppose) but to be fair they'd never come across anything like the Visser before. There was _no one_ like the Visser and no matter how much previous conflict experience they had, nothing could prepare them for that.

But over time they got more used to Earth and guerilla warfare and the Visser (maybe a few other things, too, like hiding out and working as a team. Who knew if they even really knew one another before they crashed?). And over time, they started doing things like destroying Kandronas and valuable research and saving world leaders. And as I came to understand that the tiger was the leader, I came to be more pleased that I'd managed to – maybe – save him way back at the start.

{Yes, yes, isn't it wonderful that you may have played a part in their success?} the Yeerk said sourly.

{There's really no need to be bitter about my one moment of accomplishment,} I told him. {God knows it's rare enough that you can just let me have it.}

{And I would,} the Yeerk claimed. Doubtful. {Maybe. It's just that any moment you could possibly have comes at my expense. You're lucky you weren't _my_ host then or I tell you, human, we _would_ have problems.}

{We don't already?} I muttered.

The Yeerk laughed harshly. {Oh, human, you really have no idea.}

That didn't sound good.

{And we're probably going to have to shut down that new pool entrance _anyway_ since they know about it from the start,} the Yeerk grumbled, still dwelling on the Andalite Bandits. I had been afraid of that but it's so impossibly difficult to distract someone when they can ready your mind.

{One of these days you'll accept that and stop trying,} the Yeerk predicted. {If I'm wrong and Jake is dead then no harm is done. I'll have to claim he heard something he shouldn't have and had a phone so I had to take drastic measure to stop him and the Dracon Beam was on the wrong setting but it's not like I have a problem lying to my superiors.}

There were times when I understood why, despite claiming to see us as nothing but bodies, Yeerks were rather disinclined to switch hosts.

{No harm done?} I couldn't believe it. {Jake will be _dead_!}

{Ah, but you don't want him to be a Controller and this way, whether I'm right or not, he never will be. It's better to be dead than a Controller, right? Or does that only apply to you, human? Because if that's the case then I have to tell you that that just _reeks _of hypocrisy,} the Yeerk said reprovingly.

{I'm not being hypocritical and even if I was, I have a bigger problem!} I exclaimed. {Jake is better off dead than a Controller, yes, but his best scenario is him being alive and free!}

{That's not going to happen,} the Yeerk said flatly.

{Why _not_?} I demanded.

{Do you have any idea what a precarious situation this puts me in? Of course not and you don't care any more than your brother does,} the Yeerk snapped. {If it comes out that I've been living with an Andalite Bandit for two years and never knew, my life is forfeit. If he escapes then maybe I will live to try to use you against him but my position is far worse. The only way – the _only_ way – I can salvage this situation is if I present Jake's death as a _fait accompli_. Infestation would be preferable but too dangerous to try on my own. God only knows how Visser Three managed it.}

{But it's not Jake,} I protested weakly. {It _can't_ be.}

{So you keep saying but we've had this conversation before and the signs are all there.} He stood up and went to the closet where he kept his Dracon Beam. {He's always out at odd hours, he has no energy, he won't consider the Sharing, and he constantly has spandex on. From what I understand of morphing technology, you can't morph any substantial amount of clothing. Or at least the Visser can't. And tonight he comes home exhausted, in spandex, telling stupid and seemingly pointless lies about riding his bike barefoot at night, and _bleeding_.}

{It doesn't mean anything,} I said again, desperately trying and failing to stop the Yeerk from getting to Jake's room. It wouldn't matter as he'd get there eventually but I couldn't just do nothing. Or at least not try to do something.

{I just can't take that risk,} the Yeerk said simply. Jake's door was still open and I just couldn't believe that he'd be that comfortable being so openly vulnerable if he knew. Not that shutting or even locking the door would save him but then at least he might wake and see what was happening. But might that just make it worse, especially if he really is the innocent that I believe him to be?

{Visser Three will never forgive the Andalite Bandits for being human,} the Yeerk said quietly as we watched Jake sleep, almost as if he were afraid that Jake would somehow hear him although of course he wasn't actually making a sound. {It's bad enough he hasn't been able to deal with _any_ of a small band of Andalite Bandits these past two years but if they're human…if he doesn't quickly shut them down he'll be disgraced.}

{Maybe you should stop underestimating humans then,} I suggested vaguely, wishing this moment would never end but knowing that I wouldn't be able to stop it.

I could feel the Yeerk's dark amusement. {No one's willing to give up our sole Class Five species without a fight.}

Jake looks so peaceful as the Yeerk slowly creeps into his room and places the Dracon Beam inches above Jake's forehead.

{You don't have to do this!} I begged.

{Human, I rarely _have_ to do anything,} the Yeerk said flatly. He didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger.

{NOOOOOOOOOO!}

There was the familiar light and sound of a Dracon Beam going off and in a second or two, I could see what was left of Jake. His entire head was disintegrated leaving his mostly intact corpse still lying there as peacefully as it had in life.

But it was all over now. Right or wrong, we might never know. But it didn't matter. Jake was dead either way and it was all my fault.

It felt almost like I'd been the one shot for the first few seconds and then all of a sudden I couldn't feel it anymore. Was this was shock was like? Was this my mind's way of trying to protect me by not letting me feel the terrible weight of what I had done? This wasn't real. It couldn't be real and yet the evidence was right there before me.

I'm so sorry, Jake. If I only I hadn't been so stupid and so careless and gotten myself into this position in the first place then you wouldn't have been at risk. If it really was you against the world then you would have at least have had a safe place to rest and if it wasn't…well, then you wouldn't have fallen victim to such a terrible misunderstanding.

The Yeerk was making plans. {It's fine for the others that didn't live with me. I'll need to call and report my suspicions of his friends. But who are the closest? If we grab extra it won't matter. Marco, of course. Maybe Cassie and Rachel. I definitely remember him spending most of his time with them. And if there are any others we can find them in the minds of one of these three humans…}

The Yeerk was so certain he was right. I was less certain but I didn't honestly care anymore.

If the Yeerk was right then the future of the human race had just gotten a great deal bleaker but if didn't matter. How could it? My little brother died at my hand today, murdered while he was sleeping. What were my parents going to say? Were they next?

{Oh yes, of course. You can't hide something like this,} the Yeerk replied matter-of-factly. {But it's not like they'll precede the rest of the human race by very long.}

It might have been true.

I just didn't care.

Review Please!


	86. Dear Cousin Saddler

Dear Cousin Saddler

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_I'm ashamed to admit that my first reaction was not "poor Saddler." Instead, I wondered what impact this would have on my plans. Partly that's because Saddler was not a cousin I was close to. He's two years older, and to be honest, kind of a jerk. When we were little and our parents made us play together, he was the kind of kid who'd break something and blame it on me. _

_-Animorphs #21. _

"Okay, you two play nice together," my mom instructed. She turned to go into the kitchen to talk to Aunt Ellen.

That would leave me all alone in a room with Saddler while she was talking. And grown-ups talk _forever_. I couldn't do this. She couldn't make me.

I grabbed the bottom of her shirt. "Why can't Tom play with him? They're both the same age."

"Tom is a year older than Saddler, sweetie," my mom corrected, "and he has to practice."

"Saddler can help him practice!" I said eagerly. "Basketball's not a one person sport."

"Saddler's not really interested in basketball." My mom glanced at Saddler. "Do you want to?"

"Nuh-nuh," Saddler said, shaking his head. "I hate basketball. Basketball is _stupid_."

My mom frowned. "Now Saddler, that's not very nice."

Saddler blinked, confused. "But it's _true_!"

"Please apologize," my mom said firmly.

"I'm sorry, Auntie Jean," Saddler said. He totally didn't mean it but Mom bought it.

She looked back at me. "Besides, Jake, your brother needs to focus. Can you do this for me and for him? I can't talk to your Aunt Ellen if you two don't play quietly and they drove up a long way."

They drive up here far too often for living so far away. And my cousin Justin is two and basically the devil. I hope they don't have any more children.

I hesitated. I _really_ didn't want to but I didn't want to her down, either. And I wouldn't want _anyone_ to have to play with Saddler and especially not my big brother. "Okay…" I said reluctantly.

My mom smiled and patted my head and I felt a little better. "I knew you'd come through for me, Jake."

I tried to smile but the minute she turned away my sad attempt died. I turned to look at Saddler. I _hate_ playing with him. He always hates all of my ideas and is really bossy. Plus when he gets bored he always breaks things and blames me and my mom _always_ believes him and I get in trouble. But even though 'I' only ever break things around Saddler, my mom still makes me play with him anyway.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked slowly.

Saddler smirked at me, probably enjoying my dread. I wondered what he was going to do this time. "Oh, I don't know, dear cousin. What do _you_ want to do?"

He wouldn't even tell me what he wanted to do? I knew he had an idea and would say no to everything I said until I guessed right. Okay, fine, I could do this. I didn't say 'I want you to go away so I can play in peace' because that wouldn't help. I did, though.

I shrugged. "Do you want to play army men?"

Saddler shook his head. "Army men are _stupid_."

Of course they were.

"We could play with my cars," I offered. "I Just got a new hot wheels track and it's really awesome."

Saddler appeared to consider this. "Can we take it apart and sword fight with it?" he asked, coming alive for the first time.

It had taken me a long time to put it together right all by myself and it was really fun. I didn't want him to break it. "No."

Saddler pouted. "Then playing with cars is _stupid_."

I wasn't going to let him read my comic books because Saddler's hands were always sticky and when he read things he folded the cover and the pages he'd already read behind the back cover and got it completely bent out of shape. Also, if he got bored he might tear them up and I loved my comics too much for that.

Saddler was still waiting for me to say something and I started fidgeting, looking around the room desperately for something to do. "Um…How about blocks?"

Saddler shot me a look that clearly said that I was really, really stupid for even suggesting that. But then Saddler thinks that everything is stupid so who cares? "Blocks," he said disdainfully, "are for _babies_. Are you a baby, Jake?"

My cheeks grew warm. "No!"

"Then why do you have _blocks_?" Saddler challenged.

"My mom doesn't like me to waste toys," I tried to explain.

Saddler laughed. "Your mommy doesn't like it? Yeah, you're grown up."

How long could Mom and Aunt Ellen possibly talk? We haven't even found anything to do yet but already I want to hit him. But that would upset everyone and I'd just get in trouble even if Saddler did deserve it. And he's a lot bigger than me anyway so he'd just hit me back and do it harder. Grownups could talk for _hours_ about the most boring stuff ever. I don't know if Marco and I could ever talk that long but if we did it would be about much more interesting things than whatever they talk about.

"Let's just play a video game," I finally said, sighing. I hoped that he'd have enough fun that he wouldn't break something this time and I led him to my computer.

"Okay," Saddler agreed, not looking very excited but at least he was agreeing to it. "But I get to go first."

I decided to just let him because it was easier than trying to argue or risking him getting mad and refusing to play or breaking something or maybe even tattling on me. Saddler did tattle an awful lot for all he claimed that that was a baby thing to do.

Saddler picked the game, too, (some shooting game of Tom's that I had never played before) and then we started to go. Saddler gets really, really into video games. I don't see how threatening the video game characters you're shooting helps at all but Saddler seems to enjoy it.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked him after about twenty minutes had passed.

"Doing what?" Saddler asked distractedly. "Die! Die! Die!"

"Yelling at the screen," I answered.

"I'm not – no, stay dead! That's cheating! – yelling at the screen," Saddler insisted.

I just stared at him. Was he lying about something stupid or did he somehow fail to notice what he was saying? "Really."

"Yes, really," Saddler said, a little annoyed. "I think I'd know if I was yelling at the screen or not."

"Why do you keep saying 'Die! Die! Die!' then?" I asked.

Saddler rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Jake, do you have to make things up? I mean, really? I know you're just a kid but you should be past that stage. I think I'm genuinely worried about you."

"I'm not a kid!" I protested.

"That's what all kids say," Saddler said smugly.

"What about non-kids who get called kids?" I asked him.

"Never happens," Saddler claimed, shaking his head.

"You're only two years older than me," I reminded him.

"And at your age that's like a bazillion," Saddler said knowingly.

"I think it's my turn," I told Saddler.

"What? I've only been playing for five minutes!" Saddler protested.

"You've been playing for twenty-five," I countered.

"No because I think if I'd been playing for twenty-five minutes then I'd remember that," Saddler said, crossing his arms.

"You clearly don't, though," I argued. "Look, right now it's 2:35 and you started playing at 2:10. That's twenty-five minutes."

"You're wrong," Saddler said simply.

"…_How_?" I asked, unable to believe it.

"You just are," Saddler insisted.

"Look, man, it's really my turn. If you take much longer than my turn is going to feel like forever to you because we've got to have equal time," I told him.

Saddler looked away from the screen to glare at me and stick his tongue out – _not_ like a baby apparently – and while he was going that someone shot him and he died.

I tensed, waiting for Saddler to explode.

He sat very, very still for a moment and I held my breath.

"Saddler?" I finally asked quietly.

Saddler stood up from the chair, went over to my dresser, picked up one of my medium-sized cars and then without any warning threw it right through the computer screen.

"SADDLER!" I cried out. "WHAT THE FUDGE?"

"Fudge?" Saddler repeated, laughing. "Right." He opened the door and calmly left my room.

I quickly trailed after him. He went to the kitchen.

"Are you boys alright?" my mom asked. "I heard a crash."

"Were you two fighting?" Aunt Ellen asked suspiciously.

"We weren't fighting, exactly," I told them. "It's just that Saddler-"

"Jake broke his computer," Saddler interrupted.

"What?" I gasped. "No, I didn't!"

Saddler nodded. "Yeah, Jake lost and got mad and threw his car through the computer."

"No, Saddler did that!" I insisted.

"Jake didn't even let me play," Saddler lied. "And why would I throw a car through the computer when _you're_ the one who lost?"

"No, you didn't let _me_ play," I protested.

"But it's _your_ computer," Saddler pointed out. "How could I possibly have stopped you from playing?"

My mom and Aunt Ellen exchanged a quick look.

"My Saddler is an angel," Aunt Ellen declared. "He would never do such a thing. And look, Jake's just repeating what Saddler said."

"That's because he's saying what really happened but he's using my name instead of his!" I cried out.

My mom shook her head disappointedly. "Jake, I thought we raised you better than to lie."

"But I'm _not_!" Why does nobody ever believe me? Well, Tom does but that won't get me out of trouble with Mom and Dad.

"And to try and blame your cousin when he's your guest," my mom said, shaking her head again. "Well I'm not going to punish you for this but you have to learn that actions have consequences. We're not going to buy you a new computer so you can just break it again when you get mad."

"B-but that's not fair!" I exclaimed.

Saddler was sticking his tongue out at me but my mom and aunt didn't notice.

"I'm sorry, Jake, but you're the one who chose to break it. You really need to learn some impulse control," my mom said firmly.

"I don't blame him, Auntie Jean. Little kids are like that," Saddler said wisely.

"You're very understanding, Saddler," my mom complimented.

Aunt Ellen sighed. "Well, I hate to cut this short, Jean, but I'm afraid the mood's been rather ruined and I'd rather not expose Saddler to this kind of thing. Call me tomorrow and we can meet for lunch somewhere."

My mom sighed as well. "I will. I am _so_ sorry. He's not usually like that."

Aunt Ellen looked pityingly at my mom. " You say that every time we come here and every time we come here something like this happens."

Maybe that's because Saddler always does something like this!

There are days – every day I think of Saddler, really – that I wish that he would just vanish off the face of this Earth.

Review Please!


	87. It's Me

It's Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_See, that was a stupid way to play it, Yeerk," Marco said. "If you really were Jake, you might be frustrated that we wrongly suspected you. But you'd figure the smart thing would be to help Ax play the role. If you were you, so to speak, you'd have to hope Ax pulled it off."_

_Rachel curled her lip contemptuously. "You just blew final __**Jeopardy**__. You're still trying to make us let you go. By now Jake would have realized he had to help us succeed." _

_-Animorphs #6. _

The Yeerk was confident that he was going to get out of this alive. His confidence annoyed me but since my friends had successfully proven their point that he couldn't just slip out and would have to work for it I was feeling a lot better about the situation. We had gotten so lucky that it was hard to believe but I wasn't about to start complaining, not when I still needed our incredible luck to hold for a few more days.

The Yeerk then decided to turn to another avenue of escaping: convincing my friends to just let him go.

{So…what? You're already convinced you'll never escape on your own?} I asked rhetorically.

{Don't be absurd, human,} the Yeerk scoffed. {It's just that I need them to not be paying attention before attempting anything and while they _are_ paying attention I can try to win them over. It doesn't really matter how I get out in the end but I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible.}

{You're underestimating them again,} I pointed out.

{Hardly. Just because they were competent enough to not actively leave you unguarded doesn't mean that they can outsmart _me_. The Andalite – the only _real_ threat – won't even come here,} the Yeerk countered.

That much was true, at least. Ax was busy pretending to be me but I also think he felt strongly about seeing his 'Prince' like this. As long as his lack of presence here (or lack of discernible presence at any rate. Tobias hadn't come in either but I knew that he was still here) didn't enable the Yeerk to escape then I was fine with that.

{Besides,} the Yeerk mused, {think of how much more satisfying it would be if I were able to just walk in here and tell Visser Three that your pitiful friends suspected me – or rather, the Andalite did naturally – and then they were persuaded to simply let me go!}

{That's not going to happen,} I said flatly.

{It won't matter either way, human, but let's see how this goes,} the Yeerk said. I could feel a flash of amusement from him. I guess he was bored, too.

Rachel was the one on guard duty right then so she was the first one the Yeerk tried.

"Are we seriously going to do this, Rachel?" the Yeerk asked, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, I think we are," Rachel said cheerfully.

"But I don't understand _why_," the Yeerk complained.

"Oh, you weren't listening when we explained it to you yesterday?" Rachel asked innocently. "I'd love to remind you about that but I'm afraid that I wasn't listening, either."

"Rachel!" the Yeerk exclaimed.

"Jake!" Rachel said mockingly. She frowned. "Should I even call you 'Jake'? I mean, you're not actually Jake and Jake's still in there so would he not want me to address the Yeerk by his name?"

No, in fact, I do not want her to do that. I can't actually tell her that but her concern is appreciated.

"Of course I'm Jake," the Yeerk said earnestly. "Who else could I possibly be?"

"The Yeerk," Rachel replied promptly.

The Yeerk gave an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, what?" Rachel asked, putting her hands on her hips. "You walked right into that one. And at any rate that's a really stupid question to ask considering that _we fight aliens who take over people_."

"Well…yeah, I guess," the Yeerk admitted. "But asking a dumb question does not me a Controller make."

"No, that's true," Rachel agreed easily.

I felt a slight flicker of alarm. Was she going to-?

"It's the fact that you're a Yeerk in Jake's brain that does that," Rachel concluded.

"Isn't there anyway I could convince you otherwise?" the Yeerk asked pleadingly.

Rachel nodded. "Of course there is. Don't die after three dies and fall out of Jake's head."

The Yeerk rolled my eyes. "I sort of meant before then."

"I know you did," Rachel agreed. "But I've got to tell you, Yeerk, that by now Jake would have-"

"I think I know what I would do!" the Yeerk snapped.

"Or what Jake would if you have access to his thoughts and memories," Rachel conceded. "Fair enough. But then why are you failing at this so badly?"

"I'm not failing, this is just really boring and uncomfortable and risky and I'd rather not sit through another two days of this," the Yeerk insisted.

"I'll give you boring and uncomfortable but as far as risky goes, it's far more risky to let you go when we think you're a Controller," Rachel argued.

"But since I'm _not_ a Controller-" the Yeerk started to say.

"So you say. But seriously, either you'd tell us that you weren't a Controller or the Yeerk would," Rachel said flatly. "And I'm still not convinced that you weren't considering killing me last night. Besides, I'm sure Ax is doing fine."

She and the Yeerk stared at each other for a moment.

Rachel looked away first. "Or at least he's not doing so badly that he'll convince people that he's an Andalite. Jake, you might have to deal with some therapy when this is all over. But then, you'll probably need it."

Cassie was next.

{Your cousin is strong, true, and reckless enough to ignore the risk that the Andalite poses,} the Yeerk said thoughtfully. {Reckless enough to be a defenseless human while I was in morph when I could have killed her and the others couldn't have stopped it. Oh, they could have killed us afterwards but that wouldn't bring back precious Rachel. Cassie, on the other hand…Cassie is weak.}

{She is not!} I snapped.

{You're blinded by your affection for her,} the Yeerk accused. {I see it more clearly.}

{You're blinded by your anti-human bias,} I countered. {We'll see which one of us is closer to reality. She already thought to use Ax to hide my disappearance.}

{And I'm sure that that is going _swimmingly_,} the Yeerk said dryly.

"Cassie, don't look at me like that," the Yeerk said suddenly after Cassie had been there for a few minutes.

Cassie started. "Like what?"

"Like you think I'm some…thing," the Yeerk said, sounding trouble. In truth, Cassie hadn't been looking at me any differently than she normally looked at me when we weren't alone.

Cassie winced. "I'm sorry. I just…It's weird, you know?"

The Yeerk laughed. "It's weird for _you_? I'm the one that everything thinks was replaced by an alien. I'm going to expect a big apology once all this is over with."

"And if you're right and you're not a Controller then we'll give you one," Cassie said sincerely.

The Yeerk blinked. "Cassie…"

"I know it might not seem that way but I really do want to be wrong about you," Cassie said softly.

"You _want_ to have basically kidnapped and tied me up for no reason?" the Yeerk demanded, honestly puzzled by this. {Your girlfriend doesn't make any sense.}

{She's not my girlfriend,} I said automatically.

{Please. You have no secrets from me,} the Yeerk sneered.

{…Still not my girlfriend,} I said anyway.

Cassie made a face. "No, of course not. It's just that you're going to be tied up like this regardless and I'd rather you didn't have to go through something as horrifying as an infestation, too." She paused. "And here I am talking to you like you're actually Jake."

"But I _am_ actually Jake," the Yeerk protested.

"Maybe," Cassie allowed. "But I just can't take that chance."

"Come on, Cassie, you know me. You've got the best instincts out of anyone I know. Don't you think you'd _know_ if it's not really me? Could you really be so blind?" the Yeerk asked pleadingly.

Cassie opened her mouth then closed it abruptly and refused to say anything more the rest of the time she was there.

Then finally it was Marco's turn.

{He's probably the least likely to do it,} the Yeerk complained. {Ah, well, I may as well see how it goes and pass the time. It looks like I'm back with my original plan of morphing to escape.}

"No," Marco said without looking at me.

"…No?" the Yeerk repeated. "I didn't even say anything."

"You were going to," Marco said confidently. "You were going to ask me to let you out like you asked Rachel and Cassie."

"I didn't actually _ask_ Cassie," the Yeerk felt compelled to point out.

"No but I hear it was implied," Marco said, shrugging. "And do you know why I'm not going to let you go?"

"Is it because you're sadistic?" the Yeerk asked pointedly.

Marco actually laughed. "No but good guess. It's because I know that you're a Yeerk."

The Yeerk threw my head back. "I'm _not_!"

"Then why, exactly, did you try to escape last night?" Marco challenged.

{He's got you there,} I said, pleased with my best friend.

"I was just trying to make sure that you guys were taking this seriously," the Yeerk insisted. "I had never truly considered the possibility that any of us could get taken but now I sort of have to. This time it's fine if you're not prepared because I'm _not_ a Controller but if – God forbid – anybody, including me, gets infested then we have to be ready. And how better to see if you were ready than to test it myself? Rachel looked like she was asleep!"

"Oh, very clever," Marco praised. "That sounds almost plausible. But I saw the look in those tiger eyes yesterday when you were considering tearing my throat out. I don't want to die but somewhere along the line I've made the kinds of life choices that causes people to want to kill me. Frequently. I know that look when I see it."

The Yeerk rolled my eyes. "That's great but I was a _tiger_, Marco. Not that I doubt you or anything but I'm pretty sure tigers always look like that."

"I am taking no chances," Marco said flatly. "And if it turns out that I'm wrong well, just consider this payback for that time you made out with Cindy Crawford right in front of me."

The Yeerk frowned. "Um…Marco, that never happened."

"It did in my dreams," Marco explained. "It was very hurtful."

"You can't seriously hold something that never happened against me!" the Yeerk protested. {I always knew that there was something seriously wrong with him.}

"Can't I?" Marco asked innocently. "In fact, maybe we should keep you here longer just to make sure this isn't actually one of those Yeerks that can live a week without Kandrona rays. I heard a rumor that those existed and no I did not just make that up."

{He's joking,} I declared. {Probably. But either way, my friends saw right through you.}

{I was only doing it to pass the time,} the Yeerk insisted, unperturbed. {The minute their back is turned again, I make my move…}

Review Please!


	88. The Replacement

The Replacement

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_**And were you suspicious, Yeerk?**__ I thought, looking at my brother. A new Yeerk was in Tom's head. Another arrogant master of the galaxy. My brother was trapped in a small corner of his own mind, able to see and feel, but powerless to do a thing. I knew. _

_-Animorphs #6_.

I hate the Yeerk. There's no hidden ambiguity here and I won't secretly miss him. I _hate_ him. He stole my life and that just wasn't enough for him so he's spent the last year trying to do the same to everyone else I know. My parents and Jake fortunately haven't taken the bait but some of my friends haven't been so lucky.

The Yeerk is completely dismissive of me and never did manage to grasp what 'privacy' entailed. But still. Still I knew what to expect from him. It was never anything _good_ but I still knew.

Now that Yeerk is moving on. He was assigned to the governor who may one day be president and since he found out he's been more unbearable than usual. He's convinced he's far too important to 'waste' on me and despite the fact that I don't want him here, it was still really annoying. And now he's left for the last time and there will be a new Yeerk. I don't know who he is and while the name's not important and I doubt I'll refer to him as anything but 'the Yeerk', since that's been really working for me, I just wish that I knew something about him.

It's not like it would change anything because it's not like I have a choice in this but _still_. This complete mystery surrounding the new Yeerk is leaving me mildly terrified. What will he be like? We won't get along, of course, because he'll be enslaving me and so even if he were inclined to play nice – which he won't be or he wouldn't be here – I wouldn't let it happen. Some would question the wisdom of intentionally making my life more difficult but it's a matter of principle and I'm not so far gone yet that that doesn't matter.

But will he be as bad as the first Yeerk? I'd prefer for him to not be as bad naturally but there's a good chance that he'll be far worse. I would never _want _to have a Yeerk in my head or seek an end to my brief periods of respite but just the same…the not knowing is killing me and I just sort of want to get it over with.

The Hork-Bajir comes and I tense automatically. I'm not up for struggling today but I'm also not going to voluntarily _walk_ to this so he has to drag me. It's kind of demeaning but then again what about this isn't?

The Hork-Bajir forces my head under the sludge of the Yeerk pool. I hate this part. Aside from the obvious, I can't stand the feeling of having one ear wet and submerged but not the other because it just feels so unnatural. I also hate getting that slime all over me. It's just so gross. The old Yeerk would at least take a shower when we got home and I rather hope that the new Yeerk will do the same and not leave me all dirty for hours on end.

Sometimes you can feel other Yeerks slithering past you as well and reminding you – as if you could ever forget – that there are thousands of living things in here. I always used to freak out when we went to the ocean or a pond or something and there were fish near me.

Eventually, the new Yeerk came and I winced as he swam into y ear. There was a second of pain before the numbing agent took effect and then I can still _tell_ that the Yeerk is making its way to my brain but I can't actually feel it. It used to hurt more, even considering the painkillers. I don't want to think about the implications.

I wondered instead what evolutionary trick would allow Yeerks to secrete painkillers that, as far as I can tell, worked on every species they've infested. But then, how did they come to gain the ability to control people in the first place? Gedds, maybe, since they were on their home planet but _everyone_? And even that's kind of unlikely.

Meeting aliens has really made me question if evolution is really so universal. What kind of advantage could the insatiable hunger of the Taxxons possibly provide? The Hork-Bajir at least seem like they're a natural evolution but apparently they were created by yet _another_ species. It's no surprise that the Yeerks decided to completely wipe them out because they can't infest them and then complain how many Hork-Bajir the Andalites killed. Despite what they claim, they really don't care _how_ they were killed.

In fact, if it weren't for the fact that they enjoyed pointing out Andalite hypocrisy and watching them frantically deny that they had anything to do with an attempted Hork-Bajir genocide then they probably wouldn't even mention it. I wonder if the Andalites would have admitted to it if they actually succeeded with killing all of the Hork-Bajir instead of failing. And look at me just automatically taking the Yeerks' word for it. Maybe nothing of the sort happened.

I noticed that the Hork-Bajir didn't have some other person right behind me like they usually do. That's strange. This is taking longer than it usually does and I made a few small last-second movement to try to tide me over for the next few days.

Slowly, I lost the ability to move but even though that meant that the Yeerk was there it still didn't say anything. Maybe when new Yeerks don't have to explain what's going on (not that that's thoughtful in any way as they're just mocking you with it) they don't say anything. But strange that this is taking so long.

{It always takes longer the first time you infest someone,} the Yeerk finally spoke up. {It's an adjustment. The next time it will take far less time.}

Because I was really worried about the Yeerk not infesting me fast enough. I waited but he didn't say anything else. Okay, this is awkward. Maybe **I** should say something. {I'm Tom.}

{I know,} the Yeerk said a little contemptuously. {And, as I am not your first Yeerk, you should know that I do.}

{It's called being polite,} I replied. Of course a Yeerk would make something as simple as introduction difficult.

{It's called being unnecessary. I see all of your thoughts which you're well-aware of,} the Yeerk countered.

{Then you should know that my introduction was an indirect prompt for your name,} I decided to flat-out state. Maybe I'd get an answer this way.

{Oh, I know,} the Yeerk agreed.

{And your name is…?} I inquired when more did not seem to be forthcoming.

{Irrelevant,} the Yeerk said bluntly.

{That's a strange name,} I said dryly.

Silence.

{What do you mean it's not relevant? That's rather-} I stopped.

{Dehumanizing?} the Yeerk supplied. {I'm _not_ human.}

{Well the principle must be the same,} I told him.

{Why _must_ it?} the Yeerk inquired. {Things are not nearly as universal as you imagine.}

What, so now he was going to take the 'I'm an expert' stance? How dull. {But _why_ is it irrelevant? Surely you can tell me that at least.}

{I could, of course I could,} the Yeerk confirmed. For not particularly caring what his name was before, now I _really_ wanted to know.

{Well, will you _please _tell me?} I entreated.

The Yeerk sighed. {Fine. What is the point in telling you my name, human, when you're just going to think of me as 'the Yeerk'?}

Well, okay, that was a fair point. And of course the Yeerk heard that. Well…sort of heard. {Because I can't just go around living with you and not knowing your name!}

{I think you'll find that you can,} the Yeerk replied. {You won't literally die from not knowing and aside from that there's really no way to avoid it.}

{But that's _extremely frustrating_,} I protested.

The Yeerk stood up, nodding to the Hork-Bajir, and began to walk towards the exit of the Yeerk pool. {And that is not my problem. You know, I've never actually infested a human before. Pretending to be someone else sounds tiring but I suppose I'll see for myself.}

{Oh, so _that_ you can tell me but not your name,} I groused.

{I can tell you or not tell you whatever I so choose,} the Yeerk replied.

{But I still don't get _why_ you're not telling me,} I protested.

{I just told you-} the Yeerk started to say, a bit annoyed.

{And no, 'you're never going to call me by my name anyway' doesn't count because you know my name and you've already started calling me human,} I cut him off.

{Well you _are_ a human,} the Yeerk pointed out.

{And you're a Yeerk,} I countered. {So what's wrong with that?}

{Nothing's wrong with it and it's not like it bothers me or anything,} the Yeerk explained. {It's just that it is not necessary for you to know my name since when we're communicating like this it's clear who we're talking to as it's only the two of us thus there is no need to bring names into it. And I naturally need to know your name so I can pretend to be you. No one would buy me as you – well, no one would buy me as a non-amnesiac you – if I didn't know that. But until the day you need to pretend to be me it's simply not necessary.}

{So what if it's not 'necessary'?} I demanded. {The other Yeerk told me who he was!}

{Good for him. We're not the same person, you know, and I see no need to adjust my behavior to accommodate his standards or what you expect,} the Yeerk said coolly.

{So…what?} I asked, finally accepting that he just wasn't going to tell me. {You could be here for the rest of my life! Am I _never_ going to learn your name at any point of our association?}

{Don't be absurd, human,} the Yeerk scoffed. {Of course you will.}

That surprised me. {But you said-}

{I said that _I_ wouldn't tell you and that's true,} the Yeerk interrupted. {But sooner or later someone else will use my name and you'll learn that way.}

I was supposed to wait and learn the name of the person stealing my life from someone else? The whole idea was preposterous!

{I do not think that means what you think it means,} the Yeerk said vaguely, shifting through my memory. Well, clearly he'd gotten to the Princess Bride section. {And it could be worse. I don't think you're being very appreciative of what I'm willing to allow.}

{How could me trying to find out your name be any _more_ complicated than by me having to wait for random strangers to say it?} I demanded.

{I could always play a memory for you during such times as I expect my name will come up so you won't even be able to see the conversation I'm having,} the Yeerk pointed out.

It's safe to say that I hate this Yeerk.

The Yeerk was amused at that. {Yes but isn't it also safe to say you would have hated me anyway?}

Review Please!


	89. The Reunion

The Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Tom was dead. Rachel was dead. How would I explain this to my parents? Silly to think of that right then. Silly and stupid. _

_-Animorphs #54_.

When Marco got a family reunion it was joyful and impossible and if it was incomplete then that was okay because Marco had already written Nora out of their family history. I'm about to have a family reunion as well. The helicopter is going to land soon and if I looked out I could probably see them but I don't want to do that just yet.

My family reunion won't be like Marco's. It hasn't happened yet and I have no idea how my parents will react but I know enough that I can predict certain things. I hope that I'll be wrong (at least if the real outcome will be better, not worse) but I won't be. It will bittersweet and awkward and ruin everything. If it's incomplete then it's only because I screwed up and didn't manage to save one of the people in this world that mattered most.

It's silly to envy Marco his reunion and I thought I was over it but I guess not. We don't even know if Eva will ever be the same at this point. Well…I say 'the same.' She'll never be the same, none of us will. But we don't know if she'll fully recover or not. She's getting better and she can hold it together when she needs to but I'm quickly finding that peacetime can be much more difficult than wartime and the peace has barely even begun.

All I've been able to think about in the few moments that I've had to myself (the moments that will stretch on longer and longer now that we have peace. Peace is made up of nothing _but_ these moments) is all the lives lost. Well, two in particular. My brother and my cousin. I've spared a thought or two for Jara Hamee as well. Maybe one day I'll regret my decision to kill those seventeen thousand Yeerks but for now I just don't have it in me to pity a Yeerk when I think about what they've cost me. What they've cost everyone.

I didn't even know if my parents were still alive until I got the call about an hour ago and I almost immediately took off to meet them. I've been spending all this time trying to think of a way to explain what I did to my parents and I didn't even know if I was ever going to see them again. Sure, Tom – the Yeerk – said that they were still alive back when we lost the morphing cube but he could be lying (he did that) and even if he wasn't that didn't necessarily mean they survived past that. Between the Visser's anger and the Yeerk pool exploding and the destruction of the town…it wouldn't have surprised me one bit if they weren't still among the living. I hoped they were but hope doesn't really get you very far these days, if it ever did.

Maybe I had already orphaned myself and my brother when I ordered Rachel to kill my last remaining family member. Tom might not ever have to know and they'd never find out about what I did. Or maybe the Yeerks in their heads would have decided that if they had to lost at least they could make me suffer and kill my parents. Yeerks don't really think that way, fortunately, but Yeerks exposed to the brains of other species can be wildcards sometimes.

I'm still not sure how to tell them. It would be easier if they found out from somebody else but despite that I'd rather they got the information from me. I'm the one who made that decision and I have to take responsibility for it.

The helicopter touched down and I slowly left it. I wanted to see them again but I never wanted to have to have this conversation. I wasn't the only one looking to reunite with family that had been torn apart by the war but I was the only one who was an Animorph and so of course I got special treatment. I was going to get a lot of special treatment, I could tell, and maybe once I would have enjoyed that but all the special treatment in the world isn't going to undo yesterday.

My parents are standing only a few feet from me and running towards me. I don't move forward to meet them but let them come to me. I don't think I'd be too steady on my feet right now anyway.

This is the first time I've seen them in nine weeks and before I say anything I want to see how they are. They look largely the same. My mom's hair is shorter for some reason. I guess the Yeerk controlling her preferred it shorter or something. They're wearing simple clothes, jeans and a T-shirt, but at least it's clean. Not everyone even has that. They look like they haven't slept in a month but I suppose that's to be expected. The war's end was pretty stressful for everyone, even Yeerks. Maybe especially _these_ Yeerks since they knew that at any moment they might be executed for something I've done.

My parents were quiet, too, and I guess they were doing the same thing I was. I wonder how I'd look to them. I didn't think I looked too different. I was even wearing my own clothes. I felt like I'd aged a century since I last saw them and I wonder if they could see that. Probably.

"Mom, Dad…" I said finally, reaching out for them.

My mom moved first, giving me a hug that felt that it would never end. When she did eventually, reluctantly pull away my dad swooped in and gave me a hug of my own.

"We are _so_ proud of you," he told me as he pulled away.

I stiffened. "Don't say that. Please."

My mom frowned. "Why not? It's true. We are."

"You shouldn't be," I said, suddenly unable to meet their eyes.

"Jake…I can't even imagine what these past few weeks have been like for you. What these past few _years_ have been like for you," my mom said gently. "I know that I'll never know everything that you did but I know a little bit of it. Blowing up the Yeerk pool, flushing that Yeerk pool…I believe that whatever you did was completely necessary and I don't need the details."

"You're mother's right," my dad agreed. "Jake, I know it may not seem that way in the face of everything that's happened and everything you've lost but _you saved the planet_, Jake. And not everything is lost. We're still right here and what happened to us wasn't your fault."

I smiled bitterly. "How can you say that? The Yeerks took you to get to me."

"I seem to recall a funeral a year ago that would have taken four days and that there was a whole lot more trouble than I expected," my dad replied. "And now I understand why. You can't tell me you didn't save me then. Probably a few times."

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter when I failed later."

"The hell it doesn't!" my dad exclaimed, swearing for once. "You gave me a year of my life, Jake, and that most certainly means something. And you couldn't have known they were going to move that quickly. You came as soon as you could."

"It wasn't good enough," I muttered.

"Jake, look at me," my mom instructed.

Reluctantly, I did so.

"We're still here," she said firmly. "These past few weeks were…difficult. But that's over now and we're still here."

"Tom's not," I said softly.

My parents froze. It looked like they were even breathing.

"Wha-what do you _mean_ Tom's-" my mom couldn't even say it.

"The Yeerk in his head at the end was the same Yeerk that had been in his head for the last three years," I said, my voice flat and dead. It was the only way that I could get through this. I didn't know if they knew that Tom had been infested for another few months and maybe as long as a year before that. If they didn't know then I certainly wasn't about to tell them and make it worse and if they did…well, they hardly needed to be reminded.

"When the Visser found out about me, he…didn't react well," I continued delicately. "The Yeerk never liked me in the first place but he _hated_ me after that. Somehow he got a promotion to security chief-"

"That was a hard position to keep filled since Visser One regularly had them killed after they failed to find you or stop your attacks," my dad explained.

I nodded. "Well, he came to us with an offer right after we happened upon the free Taxxons who also wished to help us. He said that he'd help us take down the Visser and the Empire itself and save Earth in exchange for getting to flee Earth with the morphing cube."

My mother was pale. "Jake…the Blade Ship got away. Tell me he wasn't on it. Tell me you didn't let those things keep your brother."

I closed my eyes. "The Yeerks no longer have Tom."

"Then what-" my dad started to say and then abruptly fell silent.

I kept my eyes closed because I couldn't look at them when I said it, when I broke their hearts. "The Yeerk in Tom's head was lying. He hated me too much to let me live. He tried to have me killed but I saw through it and only let him think I was dead. Then he was going to kill us all on the Pool Ship so Rachel…Rachel ensured that we would live and that as a result Earth would live."

"I heard that Rachel is dead," my mom said in a strained voice. "Jake!"

I slowly opened my eyes. "Rachel did die, yes."

"And Tom?" she whispered, almost as if she were afraid of the answer.

"I'm sorry," I said numbly. "If there had been any other-" I stopped. I'd been about to say that if there had been any other way that I wouldn't have done it but that wasn't true now was it? I'd ultimately gone to the Chee _anyway_ so the threat that Ax couldn't break the codes didn't justify letting him walk away with my brother's body. I didn't think of the Chee at the time but it was still another option. And even before that, there had just seemed no other way at the time. There had been _three years_ worth of other ways that I had turned my back and was it any surprise that eventually I had run out of other ways?

My dad was blinking rapidly and my mom was breathing heavily. I wondered vaguely which one would cry first. I wanted to comfort them to say or do something– _anything_ – to make this better but I knew that that was impossible. And as the person to blame for this (well, the only living person to blame for this) I was exactly the wrong person to try to comfort them.

I don't think I'll ever stop being jealous of Marco and his ability to do what was necessary to save his family. And _he's_ supposed to be the ruthless one.

Review Please!


	90. Sibling Duty

Sibling Duty

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

The Yeerk had found over the last few months that it was far easier to treat Jake like his younger brother when he avoided him whenever possible. Maybe Jake feels the rejection or he maybe can tell something of about the Yeerk because he's just letting it happen. I wonder if I should be offended by this but I guess I don't need to since the Yeerk really does decide to spend as little time with Jake as possible. It is safer for Jake to keep his distance as well. Still, there are certain times when the Yeerk pretty much _has_ to seek him out. Not that he's at all gracious about it.

{This,} the Yeerk complained, {is ridiculous.}

{I really don't think it is,} I disagreed. I often disagree with the Yeerk just as a matter of principle (Of _course_ 5:30 isn't too early to wake up!) but this time I actually feel strongly about it.

The Yeerk gave a mental huff. {Of _course_ you'd say that! You actually seem to _enjoy_ spending time with him.}

{Of course I do,} I replied. {He's my brother. Although, of course, I do enjoy it a great deal less when you're here and I just get to watch you sulk about having to talk to him.}

{Well if I didn't have to talk to him then I might not 'sulk' about it,} the Yeerk snapped.

{I feel like you might be missing the point,} I said dryly.

{Fun fact: it is _impossible_ to miss the point when I can see all your thoughts,} the Yeerk informed me. Right, like I really needed reminding of that. {I just choose to make a new point.}

{Of course you do,} I said, annoyed.

{So your cousin was stupid and was hit by a bus,} the Yeerk said disinterestedly. {Why should that mean that I have to _comfort_ Jake or whatever?}

{I think you just answered your own question there,} I remarked. {He's family.}

{But Jake doesn't even like him!} the Yeerk whined. {And no, I didn't.}

Whatever. {I wouldn't go that far,} I prevaricated.

{You would if you were being honest and not trying to canonize the poor dead boy,} the Yeerk claimed.

That might be a little bit true. The last few times that Saddler visited, Jake had mysteriously started to run a temperature. That might not have been so suspicious if he wasn't immediately fine once Saddler's family drove off. {Saddler's not dead yet.}

{It's only a matter of time,} the Yeerk said indifferently. {Saddler _is_ dead. He just doesn't know it yet and others may not choose to admit it.}

{You're horrible.} What made it worse, what always made it worse, was that – strictly speaking – what he said wasn't untrue.

{You say that so often that it's really losing its sting, human,} the Yeerk said sarcastically.

{_Jake_,} I said pointedly.

The Yeerk sighed. {Ah, yes. This farce must be played out.}

He knocked on Jake's door. If anyone had come around while the Yeerk had just been standing there they would have found it all quite strange.

After a couple of seconds, Jake opened his door. "Yes?"

"Hey, Midget. Can I come in?" the Yeerk asked.

{You're seriously _asking_ if you can come in?} I couldn't believe it. {I'd never do that. I'd have just gone right in.}

{Well what was I supposed to do? He's standing in the doorway,} the Yeerk pointed out. {And as far as character breaking moments go, this isn't really going to alarm anyone.}

{Ah but they do all add up in the end, don't they?} I asked sagely.

{You don't _want_ people to notice,} the Yeerk said flatly.

That annoyed me. {Stop telling me what I want!}

A flicker of surprised crossed Jake's face but he quickly covered it.

{See? It's weird,} I said triumphantly.

{But not so weird he'd wonder if it's not really you. It's not even weird enough to warrant a comment,} the Yeerk countered.

"Yeah, of course," Jake agreed. He moved back to allow us to come in.

The Yeerk sat down on Jake's bed (unmade as ever but all of his covers were on the floor at the foot of the bed so there was plenty of room) and after a moment Jake followed suit.

"So what's up?" Jake asked curiously, scratching his arm.

"You know that Saddler's family is going to be here tomorrow," the Yeerk began.

Jake groaned. "Yeah, I know."

The Yeerk smirked. "Not looking forward to Forrest?"

Jake looked at me in disbelief. "Are _you_?"

"Well, no," the Yeerk conceded. "I still think they should stay with Rachel's family regardless of how 'close' they feel to Aunt Naomi. They're the ones who are too cheap to get a hotel so why should they get to make all the choices? Or maybe they could just split who stays where to make it less inconveniencing total."

Jake got a rueful look on his face. "If only."

"Of course, I'm probably not going to have to spend much time with Forrest or with the others," the Yeerk mused.

"The Sharing?" It sounded like a question but it wasn't, really, and it hadn't been for a long time now.

"Can you blame me?" the Yeerk asked, laughing.

"It seems like only yesterday that Justin stopped being the devil and now Forrest has taken over for him," Jake said in lieu of answering.

"You can never kill the devil, Jake. Haven't you seen 'The Omen'?" the Yeerk asked.

"That movie gave me nightmares," Jake confided, shuddering. "But I thought that was the antichrist and not the devil."

"True. Still, if you can't kill the antichrist then why would you be able to kill the actual devil?" the Yeerk asked reasonably.

{I can't believe I'm even having this conversation,} the Yeerk complained.

{You're the one who brought up 'The Omen',} I reminded him.

"Do you think I'm a horrible person for not wanting Saddler's family here when he's so hurt?" Jake asked suddenly, biting his lip and looking worried.

{Oh, for the love of–! What is he, _you_?} the Yeerk demanded. {What is it about humans that makes them wonder if they're 'bad people' for not lying to themselves? _Of course_ no one wants Saddler's family here! Having house guests is _always_ annoying and weepy ones are worse. Children also quickly wear thin, especially the younger ones.}

{Well just because it's honest doesn't make it not horrible,} I replied. It was so strange to see the Yeerk – sort of – defending humanity.

{According to _who_?} the Yeerk demanded. {It's utterly pointless – at best – to deem natural, normal reactions 'bad.'}

{It's part of being a civilized society,} I theorized. {Trying to rise above the baser aspects of our nature.}

{Well it's stupid,} the Yeerk said flatly.

{Just because _your_ species never tries to curb any of its own behavior doesn't mean nobody else can or that it's somehow wrong to do so!} I snapped.

The Yeerk laughed harshly. {Are you kidding? Do you know that the harshest penalty that any Yeerk can get, Kandrona starvation, is reserved for those that…}

{What?} I asked, vaguely curious.

{Never mind,} the Yeerk said, annoyed.

Jake was still waiting for an answer. "Tom?"

"Of course it doesn't," the Yeerk said immediately. "Jake, it just makes you human. You can't help that you don't _want_ them here and – like it or not – it will be very inconveniencing. What's important is that you're going to treat them well anyway and not make things harder by complaining."

Jake looked like he was feeling a little better. "You really think so?"

"Would I lie to you?" the Yeerk asked rhetorically.

{Irony,} I declared.

{It's not like I said that I _wouldn't_ lie to him,} the Yeerk pointed out. {I just asked him if I would. If he takes that to mean that I'm implying I wouldn't lie to him then that's entirely up to him. Now for what I came in here to do…}

"Jake, how are you holding up with this whole Saddler thing?" the Yeerk asked, making a decent show of actually caring.

Jake shrugged. "I don't know. It's just…When I first heard that something had happened I immediately thought of you. Then I probably would have thought of Rachel and her family. Saddler and his family aren't really in my world and so it shocked me when something bad happened to them."

The Yeerk nodded. "It makes it easier when bad things happen to the people that we don't really interact with all that much, doesn't it?"

Jake looked troubled again and opened his mouth.

"And before you ask, no that does not make you a bad person," the Yeerk said quickly. "It just means that you're relieved that if something bad had to happen then it didn't happen to someone you care more about. It's not like you wanted something bad to happen to _anyone_."

{You're not bad at this,} I said, stunned.

{You don't have to sound so surprised,} the Yeerk grumbled.

{It's just that…you _never_ worry about doing this kind of thing,} I remarked. {Ever. So how would I know?}

{I don't because it is bothersome,} the Yeerk said dismissively. {And it's easy to know the right thing to say when you're not emotionally invested and have a cheat sheet.}

I suppose that means me. Now apparently he can't take a compliment. But then, I haven't really had much occasion to do so.

"You're right," Jake said, nodding. He smiled. "Thanks. It's nice to know that I'm just being silly sometimes."

{I can't believe I'm going to say this…} the Yeerk complained.

{Say what?} I wondered.

{Well if you'll wait two seconds, you'll hear it,} the Yeerk replied a bit testily.

"Just the fact that you're so worried about being a good person and about making absolutely sure that you don't have a moment of normal selfishness – which, again, is perfectly fine – means that you're already a pretty good person, Jake," the Yeerk continued.

"I hope Saddler doesn't die," Jake said quietly.

{He will. It's inevitable.} "Of course you don't," the Yeerk replied. "Who would?"

"It's just hard to accept that it could happen to us," Jake said distantly. "You always think that bad things are going to happen to other people but sometimes the odds say that those 'other people' are you."

"I know. People always say that things happen for a reason but it's hard to believe that in the face of something so senseless as this." {Of course, they only say this in a vain hope that it will make themselves feel better.} "But I want you to know that, whatever happens, I'm going to be here for you. Alright?"

Jake smiled again. "I know. Thank you."

"Hey, what are big brothers for?" the Yeerk asked, patting Jake's leg.

{There. Sibling duties discharged. I can go back to ignoring him now,} the Yeerk sounded almost gleeful.

At least there were still _some _constants in life.

Note: What the Yeerk elected not to say was that while most offenses in the Yeerk Empire get you executed by Dracon Beam and working with Andalites gets you tortured to death, it's only sympathy with a host species that gets you killed by Kandrona starvation. Clearly that's a bigger problem than anyone but Cassie would like to believe.

Review Please!


	91. Wake Up Call

Wake Up Call

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_I grabbed for the phone. I dialed the number. Pounded the keypads. My body ached in muscles I didn't know I had. I wanted to hear a girl's voice. Deep and young. Cheerful and wise. _

"_Hello?" Time stopped. Everything got extremely quiet. Except for the pounding of my heart. I knew now. I'd made a choice. I knew what I was made of. My limitations and priorities. _

"_It's Jake," I said, voice quaking like I'd never talked to her before. As if this were the first call I'd ever made. The only call that mattered. "Cassie, I just wanted to ask what I should have asked you yesterday. Are you okay?" _

_-Animorphs #41. _

The minute I said that, I winced. I really should have had this conversation in person as we wouldn't be able to talk properly over the phone. We don't ever say sensitive information over the phone ever. We especially don't when I'm involved and Tom is here. Of course, I already knew that I had screwed this up so why not continue to misstep? I really should have had this conversation right when she needed me and next time, I swear that I will. I wish I could say that there won't be a next time but I've been at this for far too many years to really believe that.

"Am I okay?" Cassie repeated, sounding a bit surprised although whether that was because I was asking at all or because I was doing it over the phone I didn't know.

"Cassie, I have to apologize to you about yesterday," I said earnestly. "I knew you needed me and I wasn't there for you."

"Jake, I-I'm okay, really. It's fine. You were having a bad day" Cassie assured me but there was something off about her voice. Yeah, she wasn't okay.

"I _was_ having a bad day," I agreed. "We all were. But I still should have been there."

"You asked Ax to make sure I got home alright," Cassie reminded me.

I laughed harshly. "Cassie, that is the very definition of 'minimal involvement.'"

"I appreciate the sentiment, Jake, but what's done is done. You can't undo it," Cassie told me but there was no condemnation in her voice. There never was, even when she thought you were being awful.

"I know but I can try to make up for that now," I told her.

"I'm fine, really-" Cassie started to say.

"Cassie, this is important," I cut her off. "If you're having problems then I don't want you to just keep it all bottled up inside and let it fester. I may not always be able to fix your problems but I want you to know that I'll always listen."

"It's just…I don't…we all have problems and I don't want to make it worse," Cassie said miserably. "I know that I worry about things that you guys would rather not think about. And that's not even the wrong approach to take and it certainly simplifies things."

"Cassie, I care about you and I want to know," I said firmly.

"Jake…"

"Are you free now?" I asked her.

"Yeah. I mean, I've got some chores to do but aside from that I'm good," Cassie answered.

I actually laughed. "I'm sure I'll have fun helping you."

"I don't demand that you enjoy it," Cassie said sweetly, a sure sign that she was feeling better. "Just that you do it."

"Yes, ma'am," I joked. "I'll be over in an hour and we can talk."

"I'll see you then," Cassie agreed before hanging up the phone.

I put the phone down and wondered if Tom had been listening in. I didn't think that anything we said was at all incriminating but could I be sure? I said that I had been having a bad day and we all had been having one. I said that Cassie had needed to talk because she was going through some stuff and was planning on meeting her to be supportive. Cassie had mentioned that she worries a lot but not what about. I thought we were safe. And why would Tom be listening in anyway?

But I couldn't guarantee that. At the start I was paranoid enough to make even Marco satisfied if not actually proud. But then over time as he continued to not notice the late nights and the anti-Sharing stance, the spandex and even the fact that I'd been replaced by an Andalite for a few days I guess I grew lax. And as I relaxed around him and grew complacent and he continued to not notice, I felt secure in dropping my guard even further. And as time goes by it gets harder and harder to spend time with Tom knowing the truth as I do and yet not being able to say anything.

Have I gotten too lax? Just because he hasn't noticed anything _yet_ doesn't mean that he never will. And I guess the answer to that is a resounding 'yes.' Elfangor-Tobias said that ten years ago from that night Tom will kill me. I don't know if that night in question was supposed to be last night but I'm very assuredly not dead (Well…Probably. I thought I wasn't dead in that nightmare world, too, but nothing about that made any sense and nobody seemed to think that the blatant contradictions and the fact that it was probably not real seemed to matter).

Still, if the decade-old magazines I saw eternally waiting to be sold was any indication then I didn't have long before Tom put it all together and killed me. No, not _Tom_ of course but the Yeerk in his head. It would be his body killing me all the same. It was getting harder and harder to keep that separated, too. That must mean he's already suspicious _now_ and so I have to step up my game.

It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted and no one is supposed to be home because next time I simply have to change into my cover clothes anyway. And I'll definitely have to check myself for blood. I was lucky that it was my own red tiger blood and not green Hork-Bajir blood or else I wouldn't have survived the night. Next time I may not be so lucky and no amount of lies or excuses will ever get me out of that. Maybe I should try to say something vaguely positive about the Sharing? I mean, I don't want to get Tom back trying to recruit me or anything but on the other hand, if it's a little attempted recruitment or being murdered in my sleep so that that nightmare world can begin…It's a tough call but I think that the recruitment might be the better option.

It's still hard to believe that Visser Three would be in charge of the Empire in that future, though. I mean, sure, if he ever takes Earth and that leads them to the Andalites then that will be a huge coup but he's just so…incompetent. He can't even kill the six of us. And I still don't quite believe Cassie when she said that we were really starting to shift a balance. That was probably the lies they told to make us feel worse or her just being nostalgic or overly optimistic about our chances.

But even if it's not true – and especially if it is – then I know that he could easily kill us all but I don't see how he could preside over such a successful Empire. Well…I guess they didn't manage to stop their resistant group either. Maybe the post of Emperor is just a figurehead? It's a bad sign if they finally decided to stop hiding who the real Emperor was. Or maybe, knowing Visser Three, he insisted on it and trusted that he could protect himself.

I still don't quite know what to make of that resistance group. I mean, it's better than _nothing_, I guess, but killing the very people they were supposed to protect…it's madness. Tobias and Cassie made it seem like not doing stupid things like that was a luxury that we have and that they didn't anymore but I just can't accept that. It's better to be dead than a Controller, yes, but if that's what it takes…I don't know. Maybe they're right. Logically it makes sense and yet I just can't accept it. I guess if it ever does come down to that then we'll need to find another leader. Apparently Tobias or Cassie would do fine with that. Who knew? Of course, they'd need to be completely shattered first and I'd kind of like to avoid that if at all possible.

Or even if it's not possible. I doomed Earth to Yeerk control forever to save Cassie, after all, controller and crazy and bitter though she was. I didn't know what that said about me.

That's the kind of question you never want to ask yourself: would you save someone you loved or everything else? You're a terrible person either way, you see. One way you are willing to kill someone you love or allow someone that you love to die but the other way…the other way you destroy _everything_ because you can't look past your own personal problems. But now I have my answer, for better or for worse.

I cannot allow someone I love to die for the bigger picture. At least not today. I wouldn't have even had to think about it two years ago. Who knows what the weeks and months to come will bring? Maybe one day I'll wake up and find that I can.

That's assuming I even wake up at all. If Tom's already suspicious now then even completely fixing my behavior might not help. But how can I make him think that I'm completely normal? I think I might have to step up my Chee use and make sure that 'I' am around Tom during a few attacks on the Yeerks. That should help.

I just…I've long since accepted that I'm probably going to die and, as much as the idea horrifies me, my friends will, too. If we're lucky our deaths will make a difference. Elfangor's did, as terrible as it was, and not everyone gets to say that. If we win this it will all be thanks to him for all that he's long dead because without him we never could have done any of this.

I also hope that when the end comes it will not be my fault. In the future I saw, my carelessness got me killed and it led to my friends all get infested or otherwise broken. I had made Marco a promise, way back when we first went down to the Yeerk pool, that I'd never let him get infested and I broke that promise then. I had been dead by then but that didn't make it better.

I looked down and realized that I was shaking. I closed my eyes and willed myself to stop.

Everything was riding on convincing an already suspicious Yeerk that everything is fine and that safe is _not_ better than sorry. Somehow, I'll have to face him knowing what he could do to me and still hating the Yeerk as much as ever and I'll have to be convincing.

It's either that or avoid him forever and that doesn't sound like it's very practical.

Yet.

I'll see how that option looks after a nice family breakfast.

Review Please!


	92. Failure to Communicate

Failure to Communicate

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

I never really thought that my life would be touched by war. It's not that I thought that I was somehow immune from hardship in life, I just figured that I would be immune from that particular tragedy and for the longest time I thought that I would be. I was never in the military and I didn't expect either of my sons to join either. But even if they had, we weren't really at war and wars aren't generally fought on American soil anyway.

Things didn't go _quite_ the way I thought they would, not that I had really given much thought to it.

Both my sons got dragged into war and, eventually, my wife and I did as well. For all that Jake blames himself, it really wasn't his fault. Tom had no more choice to get involved than we did but Jake…Jake could control is involvement. He couldn't help that he found out about the war or that his brother was involved but ultimately is was entirely his choice what he did.

He chose to save us and he might not have succeeded completely but he did better than a sixteen-year-old could possibly hope to do and he saved most of it. He's always been too hard on himself. It was what always made me so reluctant to punish or chastise him as a child (and if he were someone else, if he were _Tom_, then I might have suspected that he was doing it on purpose to get out of trouble but Jake wasn't like that) because I knew that he'd always take it so much harder than he should have and I couldn't bear to add to that. I guess he hasn't changed that much then.

Jean and I are mourning our lost firstborn deeply but, by some unspoken agreement, we chose to not let Jake see any of that. He's still too young for all he's accomplished and he would take it badly.

Jake didn't die in the war but sometimes I'm not so sure that he really survived, either. It love my son – will _always_ love him – but it's just hard to talk to him these days. It's only gotten worse since he moved out. He makes sure to see us at least once a week but it's not the same as seeing him every day like when we lived in the same house. But apparently even then we didn't see him every day because he had people somehow able to pass as him while he was off fighting the Yeerks.

Jean thinks that he moved out too soon, that he's too young and still too scarred by the war for this to be a good idea. I'm no happier than she but I think I understand. Chronological age aside, he's lived alone before and, scarred or not, if he wasn't getting better by staying then what's the point? I would have been happy if he stayed forever but that was never going to be an option.

Jake's here no and Jean is running a little late so it's just the two of us and it's terrible but I just don't know what to say to him. I've got to say _something_, though. We can't just sit here in silence with nothing to distract us and I'm his father. I should have something to say to him. Anything. If only I could think.

"So how have you been, Jake?" I asked him finally. That seemed safe enough.

Jake just shrugged. "Fine."

Not that Jake's helping at all. It's almost as if he _wants _to sit here in awkward silence until his mother arrives. Are things even awkward for him anymore or is that no longer important in the wake of what he's seen and done? I wish I knew how to ask him.

" 'Fine', huh?" I asked, squinting. "Not sure if believe."

Jake half-smiled. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Your story has more holes than Swiss cheese!" I accused.

Jake blinked and drew back. "What are you even talking about? I didn't have a story; I just said that I was fine!"

"Exactly!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers. "There's no details here! How am I possibly supposed to believe that?"

"You could just trust me," Jake hinted.

"I heard some wise advice today saying that 'Trust is a dirty word that comes from such a liar'," I replied.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Green Day, Dad?"

"When the advice I hear is wise, I do not question where it comes from," I said serenely.

"Was I supposed to make up a story?" Jake asked me.

"Only if you're lying," I replied primly.

"I could and you'd never know," Jake pointed out.

My eyes were wide. "Jake! I'm surprised at you. You wouldn't lie to your father, would you?"

Instantly, I knew that that was the wrong thing to say and Jake almost flinched. He's so hard to talk to. With anyone else, that would just be a lighthearted comment but for Jake it was a condemnation regardless of the fact that I hadn't meant it that way. He'd lied to us for years, after all, about the Yeerks and consequently left us ignorant and unprepared when the Yeerks came after us. I don't blame him but I don't have to for him to blame himself.

Jake said nothing as much as I might have been willing him to and the silence stretched on again. Why did Jean never have this problem? Not that I wished it on her since not being able to communicate with your own son is terrible and Jake really doesn't need that from both of his parents. Still, it's hard when it's only me. Why can't I do this right? I never want Jake to see this and it's not up to him to ease my insecurities but I've got my own issues with failing as a parent thanks to the Yeerks and their war and this is really not helping matters.

"So tell me, how _have_ things been going?" I asked again. "Aside from 'fine'?"

Does Jake think that I'm sticking my foot in my mouth on purpose to somehow punish him? Perhaps he does and that's the source of my problem.

Jake shrugged again. "Marco came over. He knows that he's almost got me convinced to write that book."

This was news to me but it probably shouldn't have been. I wonder if Jean knows. "You're thinking of writing a book?" I asked casually.

Would it be weird if I started asking Marco for updates on my son since he clearly has a better idea of what's going on? Probably. I can talk to him easier since Marco has only ever been difficult to talk to when he wants to be. I wasn't sure that I wouldn't still ask him, though.

Jake snorted. "_Marco_ is thinking of me writing a book. He says we all should write one and he and Cassie have already done one and he, at least, is planning more. Ax is also a work in progress but given that he doesn't even live on Earth it's easier for him to fake an emergency and avoid Marco's sales pitch."

"But you said you're almost convinced," I reminded him. "Is that just being sick of saying no?"

"Partly," Jake admitted. "But I'd never given in because of that. It would just encourage him. I just realized that I have a story to tell after all and if everyone's really so eager to hear it then, well, that's good, I guess. It's something that people should know."

I wasn't sure if I should ask him what he was planning on writing about. If he wanted me to know, wouldn't he have told me? Or was he waiting for me to ask to prove that I really wanted to know before telling me about something that was sure to be intensely personal? It really didn't surprise me that someone as private as Jake was taking so long to get around to writing a book.

Am I just overthinking this? Or maybe I'm underthinking it.

I hesitated too long and it was too late to ask. I didn't want to remind him of what he'd done and what he'd lost but, then again, was he ever _not_ thinking about it?

After a few more minutes, Jake spoke up. "So how was your week?"

I made sure that I looked perfectly innocent. "Fine."

Jake's eyes narrowed. "You don't _really_ think that's going to fly, do you?"

"Well, it was worth a try," I joked.

"Yeah, maybe if I had asked first," Jake replied. "So go on. What happened?"

"I'll tell you about _one_ thing that happened," I told him, "since you told me one."

"What, is this a contest or something?" Jake asked skeptically.

"Are you worried that I'll win?" I challenged.

"Well, fine, I'll give you more information if you do the same," Jake offered.

I sighed theatrically. "I really wish we didn't have to play these games, Jake."

"Don't look at me," Jake said, tolerantly amused now. "Your week?"

"It's flu season and there's a chicken pox epidemic going around at one of the local school," I informed him.

Jake winced. "Ouch. One's bad enough but both at the same time?"

"I know," I agreed, shaking my head. "And the parents are no help. They're either not able to understand why their kid can't go back to school or daycare while they're still contagious or – usually – convinced that their kid is going to die. I try to assure them that we see this kind of thing all the time and they're really _not_ but, well, there's a lot of backseat doctoring, sometimes. The parents of younger children are the worst, especially if it's their first or only child."

"That's why I'm glad that I'm not a doctor," Jake said, almost smiling. I haven't actually seen a real, proper smile on his face since…God, I can't even remember. It's hard to pinpoint when, exactly, the war started for Jake so it might have even been before then. It's been awhile at least. I suppose it was something that he could still almost smile.

"I thought it was all those years of extra schooling," I said, raising my eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I _promised_ Marco that I wouldn't go back unless he went back so he didn't look bad as the one person who refused to be an overachiever," Jake claimed, holding his hands up. "And, well, I think we all know what the likelihood of Marco ever agreeing to step foot in a school again where he's not a guest speaker or something is. He used to make me tell him all about my day after he 'died' so that he could gloat about how he was done with school forever."

"I do hope you know that we now have Marco to blame for you not being a doctor and that as soon as your mother gets home she's going to find out about this as well," I told him.

There was a spark of amusement in Jake's eyes but his face remained impassive. "I am indeed aware. He can handle it."

We had kept that going for a decent amount of time but now we seem to have exhausted that topic, too. So we knew how we both were. What was next? The weather? I'd rather sit in stony silence.

Fortunately I didn't have to as I heard Jean pulling up and the pressure was off.

Review Please!


	93. A New Target

A New Target

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

"_Here's Jake," Tom said. There was a scuffling sound as he handed the phone off. Then Jake's voice. "Hey, Marco. What's up?" _

_I went off. "What's up? What's __**up**__? Those scumbags are after my father, that's what's up! How do you live with that? How do you look at that piece of crap every day? He's all like, 'Bring you dad to the Sharing, do a father-son bonding thing, and oh, by the way, would you mind if we stuck a-"_

"_Shut up," Jake hissed. I shut up. Jake let me calm down for a minute. He made "uh-huh" noises in the phone, like he was listening to me talking. He made a couple of laughing sounds. I guess Tom wasn't far away from the phone. _

_-Animorphs #10. _

"So do you think he'll go for it?" Tom asked casually when I hung up the phone. He was sitting at the kitchen table and eating an apple.

I find it uncomfortable _whenever_ I'm talking to someone and someone not involved in the conversation is within earshot because I think they might be listening in and judging me. It's even worse when we're talking about Yeerk-related things (which we _don't_ do on the phone and which was Marco's idea in the first place) regardless of whether it's Tom in the room or a normal person.

When I'm involved we just sort of assume that he might be listening in anyway but it's far more stressful when he's actually in the room even when we're not talking about anything important or I'm not even talking to a fellow Animorph. I can't just ask him to leave, though, because how could I explain that without risking making him suspicious?

I can't believe that Marco started freaking out like that. I mean, at least I managed to stop him from saying 'Yeerk' but _still_. Tom might not have been listening in on the extension but sometimes people near a phone can hear the voice of the person on the other side. I understand just how serious the situation is and how much of a disaster Marco's dad getting infested will be but no amount of 'it was important!'s will save us if the Yeerks happen to catch wind of it.

"Do I think that who will go for what?" I asked blankly. As per usual, I wasn't in the mood to be at all compliant when asked about the Sharing.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Jake?"

I shrugged. "I'm sorry, Tom, but you can't just start a conversation using all pronouns and expect me to just automatically know what you're talking about."

"You were _just_ talking to Marco," Tom said pointedly.

I blinked. "Yes, I was. I know because I was there. Is that somehow relevant?"

"You can't say there's no context when you were talking to Marco and I asked a question about Marco," Tom replied.

"So…do I think Marco will go for something?" I guessed.

Tom nodded, beginning to look a little annoyed. "Do you think that he will talk his dad into coming to the lake with the Sharing? We're kind of desperate for guys at this point and I cannot believe I just said that. Who thought you could ever have _too_ many girls?"

"If you're trying to convince me then may I remind you that you already think that I have a girlfriend," I replied. Unlike Marco, I didn't really react to having Tom trying to get me to join the Sharing. He hadn't really done it as much since he got a new Yeerk (I guess the new one gave it up as a bad job and I can't say I'm not grateful) but either way I had had to deal with far more of it than Marco ever did so I was used to it.

But then, Marco hadn't really gone off because of his own proposed infestation now had he? He wasn't in as much danger since he knew better than to go near the Sharing and unless some freak accident happened and the Yeerks discovered that Marco knew about him then he'd be fine.

His father, however, was both ignorant of the Sharing's true nature and, as a grown-up with a valuable job, much more tempting of a target. If Marco's father got infested then not only would it absolutely kill him but it would actually put him in some danger living with a Controller who might pay attention close to his comings and goings or might not want to have to keep up the pretense around Marco.

We can't really afford to be sensitive or take it personally when Yeerks try to talk _us_ into submitting to them and joining their happy little slavery cult but when it came to our families…well, we got a little touchy.

Tom laughed. "Please. Who said anything about you? Cassie's welcome to come if she likes but I think we both know that the Sharing's a little…_beyond_ you."

I wasn't so sure that he hadn't been throwing it out there to see if I'd finally take the bait. I didn't mind being insulted if it meant that I had to fend off less Sharing offers.

"Whatever you say," I said casually.

"Stop making everything about you, Jake," Tom quipped. "You didn't tell me if you think that Marco will talk his dad into coming to the Sharing?"

"Well…Marco's not actually a member of the Sharing so I don't see why he'd actively talk his dad into it but I don't see why he wouldn't at least mention it to him," I said neutrally. Well, aside from the fact that he didn't want to risk his dad actually saying yes and putting himself at risk. The only good thing about Marco's dad being a wreck until recently was that it meant that he wasn't really on the Yeerks' radar. Ironically, it's only now that he tries to put his life back together that he's at risk.

"Why isn't Marco a member of the Sharing?" Tom asked curiously.

I shrugged. "I don't know. He just isn't. You'd think that he'd need a reason _to_ be a member, not to not be a member."

Tom mumbled something then.

I blinked. "Did you just say something about a cult?"

Tom coughed. "No, no I did not. I just…I know that, for whatever reason Marco chooses to give me, he doesn't want to join the Sharing but-"

"What do you mean?" I interrupted. "Marco gives you reasons he won't join the Sharing? Then why did you ask me?"

"Well…his reasons aren't always very believable," Tom replied. "Like the last time I asked he said he didn't believe in joining things and was looking into seceding from everything it was possible to say that he was a member of."

"That sounds like him," I said, grinning.

"But anyway, as I was saying, I hope that the fact that the Sharing clearly just isn't for him doesn't mean that he'll try to sabotage his father's chance and his choice," Tom continued.

I frowned. "Why are you so interested in Marco's dad all of a sudden anyway?"

I figured it was a safe enough question since Tom usually didn't mention Marco's dad or try to recruit him. Of course I wasn't going to get a real answer about why the Yeerks I wasn't supposed to know existed did something but why not ask anyway and see what he had to say about it?

Tom shrugged. "I'm not sure that I'm 'so interested.' It's just that I really love the Sharing and tend to think that pretty much everyone would benefit from joining. I know that Marco's dad's been going through a really rough time since his mom died but now that he's pulling himself back together I just think that maybe the Sharing can help him with that."

"Help him how?" I inquired.

Another shrug. "Any way he needs, really. He's been out of work for awhile and he can network at the Sharing. If he wants to look into a support group then the Sharing has one. If he just wants to get out and have fun and meet new people then the Sharing's good for that, too. And even if he ultimately decides, like you did, that the Sharing's not for them then at least he tried and gave it a shot."

It all sounded so reasonable. There were times when I understood how people got sucked into the Sharing's web. I'll never understand those that let themselves be talked into accepting a Yeerk master but there were those, like my brother, who just went along with it and didn't agree to any such slavery.

"Well maybe he'll go for it," I told him.

"I hope so. I mean, it can only be good for him, right?" Tom asked rhetorically.

Right. More than likely this will only end in screams. Not that Marco will let it get that far. And I really hoped, for Tom's sake, that the Sharing didn't even begin to tempt his dad. The Marco that I heard on the phone just a few minutes ago…he scared me.

Not just because he was willing to rant about things that should never be spoken aloud in front of an audience over the phone when Tom was _right there_ but about what it represented. What would he do to, exactly, to keep his father safe from Yeerks? He already had to more-or-less give up on the mother he might never see again. Either way, I don't think that Tom advocating his father joining is at all good for his health, especially if he happens to mention it to Marco's dad and Marco finds out.

I just hoped he wouldn't do anything drastic. I understand his need to keep his father safe. I'm the same way with my parents. That does _not_, however, mean that I was going to be fine with him taking it out on my brother. I didn't think he'd go that far but then I'd never seen him like this before. I'd just have to wait and see.

"I guess so," I agreed. "I mean, what's the worst that can happen? An awkward and uncomfortable meeting? At least he'll have some more experience putting himself out there."

Tom looked surprised. "I can't believe you just said something nice about the Sharing."

I didn't, actually, just implied it wasn't absolutely evil.

"And why not?" I asked, shrugging. "Just because I don't want to become a member myself doesn't mean that I'm some sort of a fanatic hell-bent on keeping everyone I know out of the Sharing's evil clutches."

It did mean that, actually, but there was really no need to share that.

Tom gave me an appraising look. "Huh. Maybe there's hope for you after all."

I didn't like the sound of that.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, I wouldn't go that far. It's just my complete lack of time for organizations like the Sharing really cuts down on the amount of time I have to obsess over hating it."

"Yeah, you're always busy these days, aren't you?" Tom asked thoughtfully. "What do you do all day?"

My smile turned a few shades more genuine. "Help Marco brainstorm reasons not to join the Sharing."

Review Please!


	94. Hanging Out

Hanging Out

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_Marco lived half a mile from me, in a house about seven times bigger than mine. We'd started hanging out again. And after a while he'd given up arranging dates for me with whatever starlet happened to be willing. _

_-Animorphs #54. _

I knew that today wasn't going to go the way that I had planned (not that I'd really planned today out but if I had then it wouldn't have gone like this) the minute that I woke up to all of the lights in my room being turned on and the curtains being thrown open.

"Ugh," I mumbled, groaning. I turned to bury my face in the pillows. "Whoever you are, if you're going to kill me then just do it already and don't torture me first."

There was a laugh. "Really, Jake, must you be so melodramatic?"

It was Marco. Of course it was. Who else would break into my house and wake me up in such an obnoxious manner? Still, I guess I should be glad that he didn't start blasting loud music and throw cold water on me. It's a little sad when you have to be grateful for all of the really little things but I know that Marco would just say that he's helping me to appreciate the little things in life.

"Marco, we've really got to talk about-" I started to say.

"Sorry, Jake," Marco interrupted loudly. "I really can't hear you with your face smushed into the pillow like that."

"You heard me just fine, before," I pointed out.

"Yeah, you didn't actually move so whatever you said I still can't hear," Marco said apologetically. Of course he could hear me. He was just trying to convince me to move so that I would be that much closer to waking up and, after that, actually _getting _up. Marco remains a diabolical genius even when he is trying to use his powers for good. Key word, though, 'trying.'

I turned my head a little. "I'll move once you stop trying to blind me."

"I am wounded by this heartless accusation," Marco said and, though I couldn't see him, I was pretty sure he was theatrically putting both hands over his heart. "Still, I can see you're concerned about your electric bill."

The lights were turned off one at a time but it was still brighter than I'd have preferred.

"You forgot one," I told him.

"That's just the curtain, Jake," Marco replied. "And not even you can turn off the sun. Trust me, I've tried."

"You can at least shut it," I said pointedly.

" 'What! Would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light it gives'?" Marco cried out, shocked.

Reluctantly I sat up and shielded my eyes with a hand as I tried to adjust to the new light. "That sounds like a quote but it's too early for me to guess what it is."

"It sounds like 'A Christmas Carol'," Marco corrected. "And how do you know if it's early? I was here since you woke up-"

"_You_ woke me up," I countered.

"Exactly. And you haven't looked at a clock once," Marco finished.

"I just woke up hence it's early," I declared.

"A little arrogant, don't you think?" Marco asked cheekily.

I rolled my eyes. "Now that I'm up and you can properly hear me, Marco, I was saying that we really need to talk about your breaking and entering."

"What breaking and entering?" Marco asked innocently. "I used a key and everything!"

"A key I didn't give you," I pointed out.

Marco waved a hand. "Oh, that's irrelevant. The point is that, since I used a key, I didn't break into anything."

"Where did you even get a key?" I wondered aloud.

"No idea," Marco said, shrugging. "Are you sure you didn't give it to me?"

"Right, because I really want you to be able to come and go in my house whenever you feel like it," I said sarcastically.

Marco chose not to notice. "See, that's what makes you such a great friend."

Of course, it wasn't like he _needed_ a key to come and go as he pleased as he had proved on numerous occasions, his protestations about not breaking and entering be damned.

"Marco…" I said warningly, hoping that I was imagining the beginning of a pounding headache.

"You never let me get away with _anything_," Marco complained.

"You really never _should_ get away with anything," I said tolerantly.

"And you let everyone else get away with _everything_," he continued to grumble.

"Who do I let get away with what?" I asked.

"Cassie, for one, gets away with everything. And she does just as much as me if not more," Marco declared.

I snorted. "Cassie doesn't come anywhere near to pulling the kind of stuff that you pull."

"Well…maybe not in quantity," Marco admitted. "But if we're talking _quality_…"

"I'm sure," I said skeptically.

"Oh, you know it's true!" Marco insisted.

"Would I be sitting here arguing about it if I did?" I challenged.

"You always argue with me when you know I'm right," Marco claimed.

"I really don't," I disagreed.

"Huh. I guess your denial is stronger than I thought," Marco mused.

"Name _one_ time I've let her get away with something you think I shouldn't have," I told him.

Marco smirked at me. "You really shouldn't have said that, Jake, because as it happens I've got several. Still, you asked for one so I suppose I can restrain myself."

I was, ridiculously, a little apprehensive. He couldn't say something that I didn't know about because that wouldn't count as me letting her get away with anything so what did I really have to fear? I honestly couldn't think of anything in particular. I mean, sure, there was giving away the morphing cube to the Yeerks but to say that I let her 'get away with it' was a bit much since we weren't really speaking for ages after that.

I wondered briefly if it should be more awkward to talk about my ex-girlfriend who I never actually officially broke up with (if we were ever even officially dating) and who I never saw but somehow, with Marco, it wasn't. Things are rarely awkward with Marco unless he lets them be.

The best thing about hanging out with Marco again is that, for all that things could never return to the way they were (and for all that they shouldn't), hanging around him made me feel almost…normal again. And that's in spite of his newfound and much beloved celebrity lifestyle.

It's really not surprising that I didn't really have much to do with him when the war first ended because I didn't feel like I _deserved_ to feel normal. I still feel that way a little but since that 'intervention' they had at the trial it's getting better. I swear he must have been having someone stalk me or something, though, because he always seemed to know how I was doing and didn't even pretend that he didn't.

"Go on," I said making 'hurry up' motions with my hand.

"You," he said dramatically, "let Cassie get away with becoming a voluntary Controller."

Okay, not what I was expecting. I started coughing. "What? No I didn't! When did this happen?"

"It happened about three years ago when Cassie quit and then ran off to get lost in the woods with Aftran and I was going to kill the Yeerk that knew who we were and so Cassie let Aftran infest her to save her life," Marco reminded me.

I relaxed. "Oh, that. You know, Marco, Aftran helped found the Yeerk Peace Movement which, while I wasn't about to let them continue infesting people if I could help it, _did_ save my life and was a good thing during the war."

Marco threw his hands up in the air. "Unbelievable!"

"What?" I asked, frowning.

"You can't use that as a reason why Cassie's actions were reasonable because that all happened _afterwards_ and when I talked to her mere _seconds_ before Cassie became a voluntary Controller she was talking about turning us all in to Visser Three!" Marco exclaimed.

I winced. "Do you _have_ to call it being a voluntary Controller?"

"No, I don't," Marco replied promptly. "But considering what happened was Cassie chose to become a Controller with no force or coercion involved – for whatever reason – 'voluntary Controller' is the most accurate way of describing it."

"You really can't expect me to hate someone for not wanting to kill someone," I told him flatly.

Marco rolled his eyes as though he knew that I would say that. He probably did and that's why it's taken him so long to actually bring it up. "I know. You told me back then. You _all_ told me back then. Your first reaction to me telling you that Cassie had purposefully gotten herself infested by a Yeerk who planned to sell us all out was 'I'm sure she had her reasons.' No one said anything about hatred but I was kind of expecting some sort of, I don't know, feelings of betrayal. Seeing as how she betrayed us."

"It all worked out just fine," I said dismissively. "And Cassie has great instincts."

"I really wish that made me as okay with whatever crazy thing Cassie decided to do as you all were," Marco said, shaking his head.

"Besides, you said it yourself: it was three years ago. You really should get over it," I advised helpfully.

Marco started spluttering. "What-I-you!"

"Use your words, Marco," I said, enjoying this a great deal.

"I let it go just fine," Marco insisted. "You're the one who asked for an example and I gave you one."

"Given how quickly you found that example, I really have to wonder," I countered.

"Or maybe I'm just that good," Marco countered.

I raised my eyebrows dubiously. "Maybe."

Marco crossed his arms and glared at me.

"What are you even doing here?" I asked curiously.

"We're hanging out today," Marco announced, brightening.

I blinked. "Are we? I don't remember agreeing to that."

"It was implied," Marco assured me.

"It really wasn't and I would know what I was implying or not," I disagreed. "You need to _ask_ me these things, Marco."

"I could," Marco said slowly. "But it really just seemed like _such_ a waste of time, you know. Kind of like now. You were going to come hang out with me anyway so why not just show up and do it?"

"Because explaining to me that we're hanging out and convincing me to do it takes more time than just asking me," I explained.

Marco considered that for a moment then shook his head. "Not if you said no."

"What makes you think I'd say no?" I challenged. Although, really, I might have depending on how I was feeling. Spending time with Marco can take a lot out of you if you're not in the right state of mind.

Marco smirked ominously. "Trust me. When you heard what I had in mind for today, you'd say no."

Dread crept over me. "Marco…what do you have planned for day?"

"I would love to tell you, Jake, but that would ruin the surprise!" Marco cried out.

My eyes narrowed at him. "Really. Because I could have sworn that you just said that if you told me I'd say n-"

"The surprise, Jake! Think of the surprise!" Marco cut me off.

I sighed. "I'll go get ready."

Marco glanced at his watch. "Yep. Definitely quicker."

Review Please!


	95. End of an Era

End of an Era

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_He had joined The Sharing for a simple, silly reason. A pretty girl he liked was a member. He had wanted to get close to her. He had gone to meetings. He'd played along with them, never guessing the truth. All he cared about was the girl. He had stumbled, accidentally, into a secret leadership meeting. He thought the girl was seeing another boy. But she was one of them. He had followed her, wandered into the meeting and seen Visser Three, Visser Three in his Andalite body. _

_-Animorphs #6._

I woke up to the smell of cinnamon rolls. I hadn't actually planned on waking up before nine because it was a Saturday and I was a teenager but if I absolutely _had_ to be woken up at 8:45 then I could think of few better ways.

I _say_ cinnamon rolls but my dad actually makes one batch of cinnamon rolls and one of orange rolls. If my mom were making them she might have made them from scratch or at least a little closer to scratch than putting Pillsbury roles in a pan and putting it in the oven. Still, it was really good and closer to cooking than my dad usually got and it was delicious so I have no complaints.

I also steadfastly refused to look at the nutritional information on it because according to my mom it was really depressing which is why we don't have it often. I guess we could eat less than four rolls apiece but what's the point of having cinnamon and orange rolls if you're only going to have a little? And life is short.

I quickly threw on a shirt and went downstairs to eat. My parents and Jake were already downstairs. Dad was just putting the finishing touches on the icing for the orange rolls, Mom was setting the table, and Jake was using his finger to get the leftover icing out of the cinnamon roll icing container.

When we were younger, we used to fight over who would get to lick the icing container. My dad tried to compromise by letting us both have one but for some reason we wouldn't hear of it. We did accept the compromise that the other person got to lick the lid (which had less icing on it but still some) _and_ got both middle rolls. I was a bit past wanting to lick the lids but that wasn't going to stop me from claiming the middle rolls. Those were the best because they had the most icing and because they were completely soft as they were the only ones who hadn't had an edge on the side of the pan to harden it.

"Good morning, Tom," my mom said, kissing my cheek as she walked past. "Get the milk, will you?"

I nodded absently as got the glasses and milk out. My parents liked their milk in glass glasses for whatever reason while Jake and I were fine drinking out of those plastic glasses that had once held kids' drinks at a restaurant and that we had taken home and washed. My glass was from Chili's and Jake's was from Blueberry Hill. My parents also insisted on drinking skim milk while Jake and I got 2%. I'm sure skim milk is healthier for you but surely not by _that_ much (it's only 2%, after all) but I can't stand the taste. It's almost…sour.

It took two trips to take the milk back to the table and when I brought our parents' glasses I discovered that Jake had stolen my glass and I stared expectantly at him.

"It's more colorful," Jake explained.

Even though we always all got two cinnamon rolls and two orange rolls, my dad still asked us which one we wanted first. I got an orange roll while my mom and brother bock picked cinnamon. Dad brought a cinnamon roll back on his own plate and sat down.

"You're on your own for seconds, thirds, and fourths," he announced.

I groaned. "Do you have to call it that? You're making it sound like we're gorging ourselves or something. I mean, seconds are fine but thirds? _Fourths_?"

"Well if you looked at the calories-" my mom started to say.

"So, Jake, what are you doing today?" I quickly asked. Denial is really the way to go here.

Jake shrugged. "I think Marco's going to stop by at some point and we can do something."

"It must be nice not to have to plan anything out," my dad said wistfully. " 'Might' stop by and do 'something.' You know, Jake, that when you're a grown-up you tend to have to plan things out a little better than that."

Jake blinked innocently. "Why?"

"Because if you make plans with someone then you have to clear your schedule because if you weren't going to hang out with them you'd have a million other things to do," my dad explained. "And so if they don't show up you tend to get very…annoyed. And people like knowing what you're doing in advance."

"Not to mention that if you're planning on going out to lunch or something then most people will just drive themselves and meet you there," my mom added. "So it's almost essential to know where you're going then."

" 'Almost'?" I repeated, surprised.

"Sometimes you get lucky," my mom told me.

"No plan survives first contact with Marco," Jake said seriously. "Believe me, I've tried."

"What about you, Tom?" my dad asked. "What are you doing today? Because I was thinking about mowing the lawn today but if you and your brother both won't be here then I can always wait until tomorrow. I'd just rather do it on the weekend so you two didn't have to rush your homework to rake during the school week."

"And I have basketball practice anyway," I reminded him.

"This weekend it is," my dad declared, nodding. "Jake, you can tell Marco that if he's around then he can either wait for you or help out to make the job go faster."

Jake laughed. "Marco will have fun watching me rake and complaining that I'm doing it wrong."

"That's not very nice," my mom said, frowning.

"Marco doesn't like nice," Jake replied, shrugging.

"I am actually kind of busy today," I announced. "I mean, it's nothing really that important so I can ditch it if you need me here but if you don't then I'm planning on going to the Sharing again."

I actually wasn't sure that I wanted to be there today. The Sharing is…weird. I feel bad for saying it – thinking it – but it is. Everyone's so absurdly friendly and inclusive and how can anyone have any issue with such warm and genuinely friendly people? I guess I'm still not used to it because sometimes I have to wonder what they're _really_ after. I never see any signs that it's anything nefarious, though, so it's probably just that I'm not in the Sharing mindset.

I'm only going for Rose anyway and things with her are…ugh. Complicated. I trust her but I don't trust that friend of hers, Christopher, and while I know he'd never _force_ her…I don't know. It's kind of driving me crazy, actually, that I can't be sure. Things are great with Rose but there are times when I have a reason to wonder. Sometimes she isn't where she says she'll be or she spends far more time than I feel is sane at the Sharing. She tries to get everyone to join and seems to take it personally when people say no…not that she'll let them get away that easily. And she and Christopher joined together so it's always sort of been there thing and…I don't' know. I really don't.

But I'm going to have to confront her sooner or later or I'll go nuts. The problem is that I'll either find out that she is cheating on me with Christopher or I'll have wrongly accused her and I just know that she won't take something like that well. Who would? Certainly not me. I've never been accused of cheating but I still get angry when I think about that math test incident. At least the truth finally came out there. We'll have a fight either way and our relationship will probably end (due to her actions for cheating or mine for suspecting her wrongly) and I don't want that.

I'm going to try to get some more information before having that conversation and the best place to get it is at the Sharing. She and Christopher will probably be there today anyway.

Jake made a face. "It's like you practically _live_ at the Sharing."

I rolled my eyes. "I do not, Midget."

"You were there yesterday when I wanted to play basketball with you and last week when Mom and Dad were busy and I wanted you to drive me someplace and-" Jake began.

"I've always been busy," I interrupted. "I spend half of my life at school or on a basketball court, remember?"

"Yeah but that's _basketball_," Jake said as if that made all the difference. "This is some stupid club."

"It's not _that _stupid," I told him unconvincingly.

Jake seized on that. "See! Even you don't like it."

"Well, I don't _dislike_ it," I said, shrugging.

"Oh, _I_ know what's going on," my dad said, grinning.

My mom rolled her eyes playfully. "Teenage boys."

"Ah to be young again…" my dad teased.

I could feel my cheeks burning and I avoided eye contact.

"Hey, what's going on?" Jake asked, pouting at being left out.

"Your brother is spending all his time at the Sharing not because he really likes the Sharing but because he really likes a girl _at_ the Sharing," my dad explained.

"Dad!" I protested.

"What?" my dad asked innocently. "Was I not supposed to say that? Sorry. I was just trying to answer Jake's question."

Jake wrinkled his nose. "Really? That's why he's going?"

"No!" I said vehemently.

"Mom?" Jake asked, tilting his head. Traitor.

"I think your father's right," my mom replied. She glanced at me. "Sorry, Tom."

"That's stupid," Jake declared.

"Don't call your brother stupid," my mom chastised.

"I'm not!" Jake insisted. "I just think that going somewhere or doing something because of a girl you like is really stupid."

"Teenagers can be quite stupid," my dad said wisely. "Sorry, Tom."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't even worry about it."

"_Teenagers_?" my mom asked pointedly.

My dad pretended not to hear her.

"What about Cassie?" I challenged. "You're always over there helping her around the farm."

"That's because farms take a lot of work to run and Cassie and her parents need all the help they can get," Jake said virtuously. "I'd do the same for Marco."

"Would you?" my dad muttered. "Oh my…"

My mom swatted him on the arm. "Steve!"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I don't get it…" Jake said, looking from our mom to our dad in confusion.

"You don't want to," I assured him.

"If you say so…" he said doubtfully.

"Besides, Jake, if it really concerns you so much then you should know that there's a chance that I might not be spending very much time at the Sharing in the future," I told him.

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

My mom frowned. "Oh, I hope there's nothing wrong."

"Nothing I can't handle," I promised.

Note: Too bad finding the truth was so costly.

Review Please!


	96. Failure

Failure

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_I'd had kind of a bad day at school. I'd tried out for the basketball team and I didn't make the cut. It was no big deal, really. Except that Tom – he's my big brother – he was this total legend on the junior high basketball team. Now he's the main scorer for the high school team. So everyone expected me to make the team easy. Only I didn't. Like I said, no big deal. But it was on my mind, just the same. Lately, Tom and I hadn't been hanging out as much. Not like we used to. So I figured, you know, if I got his old position on the team…_

_-Animorphs #1. _

I had been checking the gym bulletin board for a list of the kids who had made the basketball team every day (and sometimes more than once a day) since I tried out even thought the coach told us that it would take a least a week to make the decision. I just didn't want to have to wait one single second longer than I had to and what if they made their decision sooner than they thought that they would and posted it early? I didn't want to miss it.

I had been practicing for weeks but only when I felt I wasn't being watched because I didn't want my family to know what I was doing. I don't really know what I was doing or, more specifically, why I was doing it. I like basketball just fine but I've never tried out for a team before. Basketball was fun it's n ot really all that important to me, not the way it was for Tom. And I guess that since I know that I'll never have Tom's skill it makes me feel not good enough but I know that that's the wrong way to look at it since it's not like _anyone else _on the team is in Tom's league either.

I'd be just as happy on the team as off of it (but I'd have a lot more free time off of it) but I really want to make it. With Tom inexplicably getting more and more distant, I don't know if this will help but I can't think of anything else to do and I _hate_ this distance that I don't even understand or know how to bridge.

If I make the basketball team we'll have something in common again and not just 'something' but something that Tom really loves. It's either that or the Sharing but I never really got the impression that that was something he really enjoyed even if he does spend a lot of time there. I'll never understand it.

I didn't even tell him or our parents that I was trying out. I wanted it to be a done deal when I told them. And there was always the risk that I'd fail. Failing is bad enough but the one thing worse than failing is other people knowing that you've failed. No one can succeed all of the time but I hate letting anyone see my weak points.

And now the list was up. There was a crowd around the bulletin board so I wouldn't have been able to read it even if I hadn't been standing on the other side of the hallway.

"Careful, Jake, unless you want to be outed as Kryptonian," Marco teased as he came up behind me.

I jumped, having been so intent on the list that I hadn't even heard him come up. "Huh?"

Marco rolled his eyes. "Really, Jake? I'm going to need to explain it."

"You could just let it go," I suggested.

Marco outright laughed at that. "Right. Because that sounds just like me."

"Then I guess you _will_ have to explain it," I replied.

Marco looked extremely disappointed in me. "It's just that it _ruins_ it if I have to explain."

"Then don't," I said indifferently.

"Alright, alright, Jake, you've convinced me," Marco said, holding up his hands as if to ward me off. "Only a Kryptonian could possibly read that list from that far away. As in, a member of Superman's race."

"I know that!" I exclaimed. I had actually gotten what he said the first time he said it but sometimes annoying Marco is good for him. A lot of times, actually. Come to think of it, I really don't do it nearly enough.

Marco crossed his arms. "I am not convinced."

"And I'll go over there," I insisted. "Just…not right now. It's really crowded."

Marco understood instantly, I could tell. "Well, you know, Jake, I don't mind wading through the crowd if you're too polite to push everybody out of your way."

"If it's not too much trouble," I said, trying to pretend it wasn't a big deal. It would be easier to have someone else tell me so I wouldn't have to force myself to look.

The problem with trying out for basketball and not, say, virtually anything else ever was that the fact that Tom was so great meant that everyone thought that _I_ would be great, too. Tryouts last week had me really nervous. This was important to me but for a different reason than for anyone else there. Well…probably. There might have been a few people there desperately trying to impress their parents or something. I wasn't there so much for the team or the game as to try and fix things with my brother.

I knew that I wasn't going to be Tom-good and the coach quickly saw that as well. It was hard to tell how I did besides that, though. I mean, I made most of my shots. There were some people who were clearly better than me but you don't need to be the best to get on the team, just one of the top however many players were on the team. I honestly don't know if that's me or not.

It might be but then it might not be. The fact that someone suggested that I go out for football wasn't really the best sign but at least it was one of the other kids and not the coach or something so what does he know?

The anticipation is killing me but a 'no' right now would be even worse.

I saw Marco standing on his tiptoes to get a look at the list. He stood there staring at it for what must have been at least five minutes before falling back on his heels. He slowly made his way back to me.

He didn't even have to say it. If I _had_ made the team then he would have been being completely obnoxious by jumping up and down and cheering and whatnot. Marco really doesn't need a reason to turn on the obnoxiousness. The fact that he wasn't right now was a bad sign.

"I'm sorry, Jake," Marco said quietly.

I nodded, letting it hit me. At least I hadn't had to find out right there among everyone else. Some of the people over there looking wouldn't even know that I had tried out the way they would have if I had been looking at the list.

"Yeah, well, it would have eaten up all my time anyway," I said lightly. Or tried to at any rate. You never can quite tell how you sound to other people and I already knew that the levity in my tone was a lie. Marco was too good to call me on it either way, though.

I hadn't even really _wanted_ to be on the team in the first place but somehow that didn't make the fact that I wasn't allowed to any better. Putting yourself out there is never easy and when you try and you fail…it's like you might as well not have bothered for all the difference it makes in the end. In fact, you'd have been better off not trying at all because then you wouldn't have to have wasted all that time and live with the knowledge that you're not good enough.

Sure you'd never know if you could have done it but that's actually a positive here. You can always think to yourself 'If I had just gone and tried then I might have made it' whereas when you actually do try and don't get it then you know that you didn't. And you want to know _why_ but you can't bring yourself to ask.

Even when people say things like 'Oh, you're really good' and 'I'm sure you'll make it next time' you have to wonder because if you were really that good then why didn't they want you? They're probably just being polite and you were terrible. And it would be so awkward to just stand there and listen to all the reasons why you're not good enough.

And that kind of thinking, the kind that makes you wish you had never tried at all since it really makes no difference in the end, is the most dangerous kind of thinking because it makes you reluctant to try again just to have another failure to report.

Too many failures and not enough success and you worry that your friends and family will realize what the people who rejected you clearly understand about how you're a failure. And who knows? That same little 'I might have made it' will drive you crazy about opportunity that you might have landed. And if you go again and fail again…it's a vicious, vicious cycle of failure and an unwillingness to try again and more failure. It's all making me feel a little sick.

I look hopefully at Marco, seeking a distraction before I get lost in my sudden bout of self-pity.

"So what were you thinking of doing after school?" Marco asked me.

I shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it. Go home, I guess."

"Go _home_? On a _Friday_?"Marco couldn't believe it. "Come on, Jake, live a little!"

"Alright," I said, nodding. "What do you have in mind?"

"Let's hit the mall," Marco suggested. "We can play video games and I will totally cream you in them and we can look at girls who totally won't even notice you because you're standing next to me and we can-"

"You know, this is sounding like it's going to be a lot more fun for you than it will be for me," I interrupted.

"Jake, you've really got to stop looking at the world like the glass is half empty!" Marco exclaimed. "How will you ever enjoy life otherwise?"

"Well how am I supposed to get enjoyment out of you beating me at all the video games and all the girls fawning over you?" I countered.

"First of all, let me thank you for conceding that it will, in fact, happen that way," Marco began. "And secondly, at least you will be getting to play video games and looking at girls. Besides, what do you want with girls anyway? You've got Cassie. Or you would if one of you would ever stop dancing around each other."

I cleared my throat loudly. "So what was that about hitting the mall?"

Marco rolled his eyes but he let it go. "I swear to you, Jake, that if this doesn't get your mind off of that thing that we're not going to talk about then _nothing_ will."

Review Please!


	97. Old Souls

Old Souls

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

_My grandpa G – "G" for great-grandpa – told me something once, way before I ever could have understood what he'd meant. My family had driven eight hours to visit him in his cabin in the woods. He and I were sitting on the dock at the lake, watching the fish snatch mosquitoes off the water's glassy, mirrored surface. And it was so quiet. Quiet enough to make me wish I was home with the TV blasting and my dog Homer gnawing on rawhide chew. _

_I was about to leave when Grandpa G said, "You know, I see myself in you, Jake. You've got an old soul." An old soul? Was that supposed to be good or bad? He never said. Just gave me a small, kind of sad smile, and looked back out over the lake. I hadn't known what he'd meant then, or why he'd said it. I don't know, maybe he saw my future, somehow. Because now I was old. You see too much pain and destruction, you get old inside. It's one of the by-products of war. _

_-Animorphs #31. _

I stared out at the lake. It's pretty, I guess, but I'm not really into that kind of thing and even if I was there's only so long that you can stare at something that doesn't move before you get bored.

Correction: there was only so long that _I_ can stare at something that doesn't move before _I_ get bored. And, I'd venture to say, most normal people would agree with me. Well...most normal kids. Adults sometimes have the longest attention span ever and I just know that, despite what people say about growing up, that will never be me. Ever. Marco disagrees, of course, but I just can't ever see it and I doubt he can really see it either. He'd try to 'save' me from being all boring first. Although maybe after surviving his attempts to help, I'd be more welcome to the boring life. Er, peaceful.

I steal a look at Grandpa G. He looks completely peaceful. And not even the 'I'm so peaceful I'm about to fall asleep' peaceful because that's understandable and I'm trying not to fall victim to the 'I'm so bored I'm about to fall asleep' kind of peaceful. And it's not just now, either. There is literally nothing to do here (well…'literally' if I'm misusing the word 'literally') and Grandpa G has lived here for as long as I can remember. I think he moved out here when his wife died which was way back when my mom was still in college.

With nothing to do but stare out at the lake, I can only imagine just how much time Grandpa G has spent out here doing just that. It's the strangest thing. And he's _still_ not bored.

My gaze turns a bit awed as it strikes me how remarkable it is to have the kind of patience to live out here all by yourself and stare out at the lake for hours upon hours and not go crazy. But maybe you have to be a little crazy to be able to do that, I don't know. Can crazy people go crazy? They can go c_razier_, I guess. But Grandpa G really doesn't strike me as particularly crazy the few times my family drives eight hours out here.

Still, I'm not the kind of person with the patience to mediate or be a saint or whatever. I just want to be at home playing with Homer or watching TV and definitely with some air conditioning. I imagine what I _could_ be doing if I were only back in Santa Barbara and I'm not sure how much time passes before a mosquito bites me and I come back to myself. The sun is a little lower in the sky so even though I don't know just how much time has passed it was at least a few minutes.

And still Grandpa G is saying _nothing_. It's kind of freaking me out, actually. I glance over again to make sure he's still breathing (well, you never know) and then decide that I've done my great-grandson duty of sitting out there and keeping him company for long enough and I can go back into the cabin and see what my parents and Tom are doing. And also see about getting some more bug spray.

I stand up and that finally seems to alert him to the fact that I'm there. I wonder how likely it is that he genuinely did not realize I was here before now. It's not like he so much as looked at me. Maybe he was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear or see me arrive. Maybe he thinks I actually just got here instead of being about to leave.

"You know, I see myself in you, Jake," Grandpa G said slowly. Was I what he was thinking about? Really? He was ignoring me in order to think about me? You'd think that if I were what he was interested in then he could have shown it but I guess not. "You've got an old soul."

I frowned. What did that even mean? I mean, I know that Marco regularly accuses me of being a forty-year-old trapped in a twelve-year-old body but somehow I don't think that's what he meant. He probably wouldn't approve of any of the things that I don't want to do that leads Marco to call me that anyway.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Does it just mean that I'm really mature? It's not a good thing when Marco says it. It sounds almost like it's something poetic but that doesn't help me figure out if it's good or not. I don't want to admit that I have no idea what he's talking about because I hate admitting to knowing things but it looks like I'm going to have to unless I want to ask someone else and admit to them that I don't know.

"Um…is that a bad thing?" I asked hesitantly.

Grandpa G looked startled, like he'd forgotten that I was there or hadn't meant to say that out loud. "It all depends on how you look at it."

That figured. A lot of times people won't give you straight answers for whatever reason and just insist that it depends on how you look at it. A lot of those times I really think that there _is_ a straight answer but, then again, it could just be my way of looking at things. I walked in one time on Tom studying for psychology and he told me about this one thing (I don't remember what it was called) where not as many people agree with you as you think do.

"So…how do you look at it?" I asked. That was really what was important, right. I mean, if he was comparing me to himself then it was probably a compliment, right? And I'm pretty sure that Grandpa G likes me (everyone likes their grandchildren so wouldn't _great-grandchildren_ be better?) so why would he say something bad about me? And in front of me, too, when we were having a – somewhat tedious – really lovely evening out on the dock?

But Grandpa G merely shook his head. "I can't say. It all depends on how you look at it."

That time I couldn't keep quiet. Was he being non-helpful on purpose or was that just an old person thing? I never want to get old. "How _you_ look at it depends on how _I_ look at it?"

Grandpa G chuckled. "No, no. You misunderstand me, Jake. I don't think that it is a good or bad thing, per se. It just is."

"There aren't many things in life that you can be indifferent towards," I said dubiously. "And certainly nothing important."

"What makes you think what I said about old souls is important?" Grandpa G asked me.

That caught me off guard. I'm really not used to people suggesting that what they have to say isn't important. "Well…you mentioned souls and souls usually means important, right? Plus you said that I remind you of yourself."

Grandpa G nodded. "So I did."

"So…you're not going to tell me?" I asked, frowning.

"There's nothing to tell. You'll understand one day." And with that, he gave me a small, sad smile and turned back to the lake which – once again – apparently proved to be more interesting than me.

I stayed for a few minutes longer so he wouldn't think that I was just leaving because he wouldn't answer my question and then I hurried back to the cabin.

I found Tom in our room reading a book. I guess he wasn't really into it because he quickly put it down when I came into the room.

"What's up, Midget?" he asked me.

"Do you think that I have an old soul?" I asked him. "And do you think that that's a good thing? Having an old soul, I mean, not whether or not I have one."

Tom stared at me. "Where is this even coming from?"

"Something Grandpa G said," I said, shrugging.

"That's not surprising," Tom said, nodding. "It does sound like one of those things you'd read in a World War 2 novel or something."

"So…good or bad? And is it me or not?" I asked anxiously.

"I don't really look at you and see 'old soul' but then, I'm three years older than you," Tom said reasonably. "And you still believe in Santa."

"Why wouldn't I believe in Santa?" I asked blankly. "He brings presents. That's pretty good proof that he exists right there."

"At some point, most people decide that being considered cool is worth risking no more Santa presents," Tom confided. "As for whether it's good or bad…that really depends on how you look at it."

I groaned loudly.

Tom frowned. "What?"

"Not you, too! Grandpa G wouldn't give me a straight answer," I complained.

"Well I'm really not sure how to describe it," Tom said slowly. "I mean, I think I get it myself but explaining it is another matter."

"Can you at least try?" I pleaded.

"Alright," Tom agreed. "It means that…well, it means that you seem older than you are."

"So it does mean you're more responsible?" I asked.

"Well…" Tom hesitated. "I think that anyone with an old soul would have to be responsible but that doesn't mean that everyone responsible has to have an old soul."

"Is it like being a forty-year-old trapped in a twelve- year-old's body then?" I inquired.

Tom stifled a laugh. "No, that just means that you're too uptight and have no fun."

"So what does it mean, exactly?" I pressed.

"Just…people look at you and you look young but even though you haven't been around for as long as some people you've been through a lot and you just seem like you're a lot older," Tom tried to explain.

"And…_I'm_ supposed to have an old soul," I said skeptically. "Me."

Tom shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the one who said it. I'm just explaining to you what it means."

"I guess sometimes people like to see themselves in other people, especially their descendents, even if it's not actually true," I mused.

An old soul. Me. _Right_. I'm sure that Marco would get a kick out of that one.

Review Please!


	98. Too Late

Too Late

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

This can't be happening.

The Yeerk doesn't respond for once, likely because he's too fixated in what's _really not happening right now_. It's going to change everything, one way or another, and it things go badly then there will be consequences for us both. The consequences will mostly be for him, of course, but there's really only one way to torture a Yeerk itself and while I'm sure Kandrona deprivation will occur regardless, Visser One isn't really the type to limit himself. I've heard it rumored – not that I've seen it for myself – that he has torture devices from around the galaxy decorating his room on the Blade Ship. Yeah, when it comes to torture this guy knows what he's doing.

And I'm certainly not looking forward to that because, despite the last four years, I'm not _crazy_ and I know that it may happen even if things do go well for the Yeerks here but I'm kind of having difficulty focusing on that in the wake of what I really can't accept is happening.

And they're wrong. They must be wrong, _so _wrong.

How can the Andalite Bandits be human? I mean, yes, that human kid David was morph-capable at one point but he quickly disappeared and everyone sort of took it to mean that a human couldn't successfully work with Andalites or that humans couldn't really deal with this kind of war (even if it wasn't a very pro-human opinion – or pro-Andalite, depending on how you looked at it – there didn't seem to be any other possibilities. No one killed any Andalite Bandits that might have been him).

And now at least a few of them are supposed to be humans despite the fact we've _seen _Andalites with them? The Andalites are notoriously opposed to working with other species and even if the Yeerks are hardly an unbiased source here and you can't really blame them when you consider what happened with the Yeerks, I haven't seen any evidence to the contrary. They just don't work well with others. But they did here?

And of all the humans, two are supposed to be my relatives? Not just one but _two_? It seems rather…unlikely, to say the least. My two human relatives who I never knew about and who just left me to this. Understandably, I'm not excited about the prospect.

The two obvious choices to the Yeerks were my parents. Would they have really just done nothing (well…fighting the Yeerks all this time isn't exactly 'nothing' but it didn't personally benefit me) for three years had they known? I don't want to believe that.

And I _can't_ believe that if they had known they would have been so willing to make a detour to the Sharing instead of going to the mall to get a lawn mower. The Andalite Bandits know about the Sharing. They've known about it for ages. And the Andalite Bandits also know that the Yeerks found confirmation that at least one of them is human and related to some blind woman named Loren. If they found one match, they'd logically only step up the search and find a second match. Going to the Sharing at all for anyone was a terrible idea at the best of times, more so for a human who knew the truth and was actively fighting them. It was a worse idea when the Yeerks had finally cottoned on to the fact that they were human. And they _knew_ this.

And when they agreed to go inside with me while I just 'dropped something off real quick'…There was no suspicion, no hesitation. And it wasn't like they couldn't decline without appearing suspicious. 'Oh, it will be quicker if we wait in the car' would have been perfectly normal. But they'd have to know that even staying outside the building wouldn't save them, just make things harder. The Visser dislikes subtlety in the best of times and he has far less tolerance for it when a morph-capable enemy is at hand. He had none when it came to Elfangor's execution and less, if possible, when it came to trying to get the morphing cube.

But there was no need. My parents blithely followed the Yeerk into the Sharing and were grabbed the minute they were inside. They didn't even try to morph. There was really no need to worry about their cover by that point because once Hork-Bajir show up right in front of you you're either going to die or get infested. Even if they couldn't escape they could at least try to get themselves killed or morph away their ears or something so that they _couldn't_ be infested. Good luck infesting a bird or something else small like that. Even if the Yeerks just knocked them unconscious before it worked properly and then infested and revived them before the two hours was up it was still worth a shot!

Anything would be worth trying instead of just letting yourself be dragged off to the Yeerk pool and infested without a fuss (okay, they were struggling but not enough to matter. Not as much as an Andalite Bandit would).

The Visser was waiting by the pool. If they had tried to morph and the Hork-Bajir couldn't deal with it then perhaps he would have deigned to come up and deal with it himself but if not then he does so love to delegate.

{Are these them?} he asked, peering curiously at my parents.

"Who are you?" my dad demanded. He managed to sound more angry than scared and that's more than most people could do. "_What_ are you?"

{That is either a pitiful waste of time given what is about to happen and where you are in which case you already know the answer to that very well or you're too insignificant to bother telling you,} the Visser said contemptuously. {But tell me, do you know me? Either of you?}

"Why would we _know_ you?" my mom asked incredulously.

{Why indeed. We shall see soon enough.} The Visser waved his hand at the pool, a human gesture but I suppose that even he couldn't avoid picking up _anything_ from his years on Earth.

{No…} I whispered. I knew it was too late, of course. I had been begging and screaming ever since the order came to do this last night. There was a chance, however slim, back then. Now, though…Now surrounded by thousands of Controllers and the Visser himself there was no way out.

{I'm glad you see that,} the Yeerk said absently. {Now try to be less…reactive about this.}

Typical Yeerk callousness. As if that were even possible. My only consolation was that Jake wasn't here.

The Yeerk wanted everyone to go but Jake had plans with Cassie and an argument would take too long. Maybe my parents would even cancel their outing. And while a house invasion is hardly unheard of in this invasion, it's a lot less convenient than taking them at the Sharing and you never want to go after warriors on their home turf if you can help it. You might still win but it's so much more complicated.

The Yeerk convinced them to leave Jake be. For now. After my parents are taken or killed or whatever, Jake still being free and ignorant will likely be _inconvenient_ and he'll be taken, too. Everything is falling apart and my parents aren't even the Andalite Bandits! Even ignoring the fact that I don't want it to be them, they're acting all wrong for this to be the case. And it's not even the 'I'll pretend to have no idea what's going on so I can get you to underestimate me and escape' type of acting, too, because it really is too late for that.

Unless they are _really_ good at morphing and can just morph away their earlobes while still having their outer ear intact so no one would notice they're not being infested (can people even _be_ that good at morphing? I've never seen anyone but the Visser morph and he is not even _close_ to being that skilled) then this is just going to end badly.

My parents scream out for me to help them but, of course, the Yeerk barely even glanced their way. Still, I know I'll be having nightmares about this tonight and probably every night for the foreseeable future. It's not enough that this is happening right not but not even being able to escape it in sleep…I hate dreams, I really do.

Their twin betrayed looks when I did nothing will stay with me as well. They'll understand why I didn't move to help them soon enough but will that ease the feeling of betrayal? Will I even know? I never do, really, so why should this be any different?

My dad's head is shoved in the sludge first and, slowly, he stops struggling. It's his first time being infested so it will be a few minutes before the Yeerk fully takes control but it's too late for him now. He's one of us.

"What's going…on?" he asked slowly as they moved him to the side. He'll find out soon enough. Dad…I'm so sorry.

I'm having flashbacks to that dark time a year ago when he'd almost faced this very same fate for his instance of going to Grandpa G's funeral for four days. He'd almost died then, too, but it hadn't happened. I should have known that this couldn't be put off forever.

My mom stared on in horror. "Steve…are you okay? What did they do to you?"

My dad shook his head. "I can't…"

It was terrible to watch but I couldn't turn away. I knew all too well what was going on and, for all their confusion, they were better off not knowing.

Then it was my mom's turn and she screamed as they forced her head under the water.

A few minutes later, after I had watched her slowly lose everything, and my parents were standing before the Visser. They were still there, I knew that all too well, but it didn't even matter. They weren't the ones in control anymore.

{Well?} the Visser asked impatiently.

"It is not my host, Visser," my dad's Yeerk said nervously.

"Nor mine, Visser," my mom's Yeerk confirmed, shaking a little.

They feared that they would be blamed for the fact that my parents weren't the Andalite Bandits. I knew they weren't. It was ridiculous to blame them but, given this was the Visser, not an absurd fear.

The Visser nodded and everyone tensed, waiting for his reaction. It did not disappoint. He struck suddenly and took off the heads of two Hork-Bajir standing nearest to him. Everyone tried not to react and to look like they weren't desperately wanting to back up.

{HOW CAN THIS NOT BE THEM?} he bellowed. {I WAS TOLD THAT THERE WAS A MATCH! HOW INCOMPETENT CAN YOU PEOPLE BE?}

"I…Visser," the Yeerk began hesitantly.

{No. Yeerk, don't!} I pleaded.

{I have to. And he'd find out sooner or later anyway,} the Yeerk said coldly.

{What?} the Visser snapped, his tail twitching like he was very much considering taking off my head, too.

Oh, please do it. Do it now before he can-

"There is another match. My host's brother. Jake."

{Find him,} the Visser ordered. {Bring him to me. We'll see what this human is made of. I don't think I need to remind you of the penalty for failure…}

Review Please!


	99. Slavery

Slavery

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

This really shouldn't be that hard of an assignment. I know that logically and I know that no one in class is going to spend half the time that I am on this but that doesn't help me do it. Probably they won't even prepare for it but they'll wing it and at least come up with something but it's like I'm just hitting a roadblock.

Personally, I blame the Yeerks. I know that, technically, this has nothing to do with them and it's not like I've started copying Marco and blaming them every time he stubs his toe (although yes, fine, if the Yeerks _could_ make us stub our toes somehow then they totally would). It's just that if I hadn't spent the last two years trying to stop them from enslaving everyone I know then I probably wouldn't be having such a mental block. Rachel's in my class, too, but she's on the opposite side of the debate so she won't be having any problems and she wouldn't help me on principle. Rachel can probably give a stirring speech about her subject. So could I, for that matter, but I'm not doing that so it wouldn't help my cause.

"Hey, Midget," Tom said as he walked into the room. "What are you doing?"

"Homework," I said, using my pen to stealthily move my notebook and textbook a little further away from me.

Tom glanced at my blank sheet of paper. "Are you sure?"

I groaned. "I'm just having a bit of trouble with this concept."

Tom frowned. "As your older brother, I feel like I should offer to help."

"But you won't because you don't want to?" I guessed.

Tom shook his head. "Nah, I'll be generous. I had a good day today."

Which probably meant that I was going to have a bad day at some point because a good day for the Yeerk tended to mean that the Yeerk cause was going well and that always meant a future headache for me.

Tom plopped down in the chair across from me. "So what is it? And _please_ don't tell me it's math as that takes far more time than other subjects."

"It's not math," I assured him.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. "Bullet dodged. So what is it?"

"For my history class we're supposed studying the period right before the Civil War and we're going to have this debate between abolitionists and slave-holders," I explained. "Unfortunately, I'm a slave-holder."

Tom frowned. "I'm afraid I'm not really seeing the problem here, Jake. Clearly you didn't get to pick your side and even if you did no one's going to think that you approve of slavery just because you have to argue for it."

"I know that," I replied. "It's just…I can't think of anything."

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "You can't think of _anything_?"

I gestured to my paper. "Hence the blank sheet."

"You know, it's easy to argue for something that you believe in but it also doesn't take much skill. A little competence in knowing what you're talking about and not making stupid arguments and maybe some skill is required for how persuasively you can make those arguments but just making them isn't that hard," Tom told me. "It's knowing how to argue convincingly for something that you _don't_ believe in and not just putting forth a straw man that is really challenging and shows that you know what you're doing."

"What's a straw man?" I asked curiously. It sounded like something out of the Wizard of Oz but in that context it didn't really make sense.

"It means that you put forth an argument that doesn't actually reflect the other side's position," Tom explained. "Like if I said that the idea of school uniforms was terrible because no one should try to bring back the fifties – or whatever decade – when everyone actually did wear school uniforms because our society has made a lot of progress since then and I, for one, don't want to see a massive backslide. Are the people who want school uniforms _really_ trying to send our society back forty or however many years?"

"No," I replied.

Tom nodded. "There you go. I built a straw man and beat his argument. If you said something like 'We should have slavery because I'm evil mwa ha ha' then that would be a straw man, too."

I winced. "But the 'I'm evil so I like slavery' is the first idea I've had and I didn't even come up with it!"

Tom sighed. "Are you _seriously_ not able to think of anything? Not even something stupid like that?"

"I think it's some kind of mental block," I said helpfully. "I just hate slavery so much that I can't even begin to imagine how anyone might support it."

"It's all well and good that you hate slavery, Jake, and I doubt most people would argue with you but unless you want to totally fail your debate then you've got to think of something," Tom said flatly.

"But I _can't_," I protested. Of course, then I got an idea. Tom's Yeerk, as someone who is enslaving someone and working for the enslavement of everyone else on the planet, will probably be able to come up with some arguments. In fact, he must have _some_ reasons for doing what he's doing even if he was born into that kind of society and doesn't feel like he has to justify himself to a host. "Can you think of any?"

Tom shrugged. "Sure. I think the most obvious is claiming that the people you're enslaving aren't _really_ people."

I blinked. "How can they not be people? They're just people who look differently than you. I think if someone is capable of claiming that they're a person then they are pretty clearly right."

"At the very least you'd have to go with someone who is a person, technically, but is still far inferior to you. Human but subhuman, for example," Tom replied. "Because if you're going to be going around enslaving a group, is that going to go over better if you say that they're subhuman or that they're perfectly equal to you but just look different?"

"Well…I don't know of anyone who would even begin to believe that it's fine to enslave people who are equal to you because you can," I conceded. From what I've gathered of Yeerk society, they think of the people they take as mere bodies and refer to the person whose body they took as the unwanted annoyance that comes with it.

I guess it is easier for them, if they're going to do it anyway, to ignore the fact that they're destroying real people. I can't imagine how they can pull that off when they're actually inside of people's heads and surrounded by all that makes them a person, though. I mean, maybe with the Gedd who they say are barely sentient or the Hork-Bajir who are a little slow they can use that to try and justify it but what about humans?

"Only those who are comfortable with moral ambiguities or who are self-aware enough to say 'this is bad but I'm doing it anyway because it benefits me'," Tom said.

"Am I just supposed to be able to say 'Well the people we're enslaving are obviously sub-human' or are there some examples?" I asked him. I wondered what he would say about humans. We don't know about aliens so we're sub-Yeerk? Our technology is behind theirs? They _can_ infest us so automatically we're sub-Yeerk?

Tom shrugged again. "Off the top of my head I don't know but I'm sure your book will have an example or you can go to the library or something. Or ask Rachel, she's good at history and isn't she in your class?"

I nodded glumly. "She's not on my side."

Tom winced. "Then I guess you're on your own."

"So anything else?" I asked. "I can't really go into the debate with one point."

Tom laughed. "You are really trying to make me do your homework for you, aren't you? Well, how about this: slavery is absolutely necessary for your society. It would completely fall apart without it so, even if it weren't still perfectly moral to enslave certain people, it's necessary and giving it up would be bad for you."

I could see that one, actually. Without enslaving people, the Yeerks are blind and helpless and that sounds terrible and boring. It doesn't improve the morality of what they're doing but the fact that without enslaving people they'd be stuck in those dinky little pools does add validity to the claim that they had to do it. It was a 'necessary evil' as it were.

"There's also the idea that after having been enslaved for so long it would be cruel to just release them," Tom continued. He'd be really, really good at this assignment even without having to study and that's a little disturbing. I don't often get to hear the Yeerk perspective (nor do I particularly want to) and that's clearly what this is, even if he's putting it in terms of humanity. And no, it is not nice of him to be helping me with my homework even though without him I'd probably just fail and he doesn't have to do this. He probably just wants the chance to talk about how what they're doing is perfectly fine.

"That makes no sense!" I exclaimed. "How can it be in any way cruel to let enslaved people go?"

"Well, after being enslaved for so long do they really know _how_ to be free anymore?" Tom asked rhetorically.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said flatly. But then I thought about it. I'm sure human slaves would have been fine (they had marketable skills!) but Yeerk slaves…if you lived your entire life unable to move except when you were thrown in a cage every three days then how well would you really be able to fend for yourself? Just one more atrocity to add to the list. "That doesn't justify not letting them go and, if need be, aiding them in adapting to freedom."

"And then, of course, there's the question of whether or not they even _want_ freedom in the first place," Tom continued. "I mean, sure they may _say _that they do but do they really? Many of them don't even properly understand what freedom _is_ so how can they know if they want it? Maybe some bleeding hearts are just trying to force their beliefs and values on others."

I dropped my pencil. "Okay, now you're just making things up."

Tom shrugged. "If that's what you'd like to think. But you'd be surprised how many ways people can come up with to justify doing whatever it is that you want to do. Me, I'm no slave holder-" Right. "- but if I were I wouldn't need any of that. It could be as immoral as people say it is but if it suited my purposes then I could live with it."

This Yeerk is terrible person, isn't he?

That didn't mean I wasn't using his suggestions, though.

Review Please!


	100. Welcome Home

Welcome Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Animorphs.

Note: I like angst as well as anyone but I do prefer happy-ish endings.

It's been three years, two months, and seventeen days since Jake left with hardly a word. Is it sad that I know that off the top of my head? I can't bear to keep track of how long it's been since Tom died. With Tom, though, I know that he's gone. Jake might still be alive. Each day, that hope grows dimmer but I'll never believe that he's dead until I find the body.

I wasn't feeling like cooking so Steve decided to and, being Steve, by 'cook' he meant 'ordered Chinese.'

The doorbell rang. I was in the middle of setting something up to tape so I called out, "Can you get that? I think the food's here!" It was a little early, sure, but who would complain about something like that? It's only when you've been waiting an hour and a half and they said thirty minutes or less that things start to become a problem and, aside from holidays, that's usually not a problem at the places we order from or else we soon find new places to order from.

"Okay, be right there!" Steve called back.

I started clearing off the table. Something was strange. This normally didn't take so long.

"Jean!" Steve called out, slightly panicking and completely disbelieving. "Jean, honey! Come here!"

"What?" I called back, curiously.

"Just…just come here!" Steve said, his voice sounding more urgent.

I walked over to the front door with a magazine that I had been moving still in my hand, wondering why Steve just wouldn't tell me what was going on. Evidently this wasn't the Chinese food after all. And then I saw why.

I immediately dropped the magazine and was vaguely glad that I hadn't had something more breakable in my hand.

The man at the door was older than I remembered (three years, two months, and seventeen days older than I remembered) but I would know him anywhere.

"Jake!" I burst out before launching myself at him and hugging him tightly.

He returned the hug with just as much ferocity and I never wanted him to let go.

He did, eventually, though and eyed his father and I like he was a starving man. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"We weren't the ones who left," Steve said quietly.

Jake nodded and a shadow passed across his face. "I know. And…I'm sorry. I know I said that before but after all this time I don't think another apology is out of place."

I shook my head. "We don't need an apology, Jake. We just need you."

Jake smiled at that. "Well, since you've got me and an apology to boot, is it okay if I come in?"

I was horrified that he'd even had to ask and I turned to glare at my husband.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I had other things on my mind!"

"Come in, of course you can come in!" I exclaimed, grabbing Jake by the arm and pulling him into the house.

He looked around in wonder. "It hasn't changed a bit."

It had, actually, changed a little in the last three years but most of it was the same.

Jake followed us into the kitchen and we sat down at the table.

"We're just waiting for Chinese," Steve said by way of explanation.

I couldn't take my eyes off of my living – he was still alive! – child. He was older, yes, but somehow he didn't look as burdened as he had before. He had slowly been getting better after the war ended (or at least I thought he had), particularly after the trial but it had still not been enough.

Even if you hadn't known what Jake had accomplished in his short life – he was only just old enough to drink – then just by looking at him you could tell it was a lot. But he looked…I don't even know how to describe it. Not _happier_, exactly. Maybe healthier? Maybe less likely to take those that he killed or failed to save with him everywhere he went.

This was only my first time seeing Jake in so very long that I could be completely wrong but God I hope I'm not.

Jake nodded. "That's good. I'm starving."

I couldn't take it any longer. "Jake…what happened? How are you back?"

Jake looked at the ceiling. "It's…complicated. I can't really talk about most of it for the same reasons that I couldn't before-"

"The same reasons that you can't tell us?" I cut in, trying not to sound bitter but knowing that I probably failed.

Jake looked sheepish. "I'm sorry but if we're going to get away with what we did then we _really_ need no one to know what happened."

"Are you going to get away with whatever you did?" Steve asked, concerned. "I mean, it was all over the news how you guys stole that old Andalite ship."

"That old _Yeerk_ ship," Jake corrected as if it somehow mattered. "And yeah, we are. I'm not sure what the details are but they promised they'd work something out."

I didn't even bother to ask who 'they' was. If he couldn't even tell us what happened then he certainly wouldn't tell us that.

"What can you tell us?" I asked. He had said that he couldn't tell us _most_ of it but most wasn't all.

"We encountered Ax stranded somewhere," Jake told us. "Everyone else was dead but we got his distress call and managed to save him."

"That sounds a little unlikely," Steve said frowning.

Jake shrugged. "Probably, yeah. I wasn't about to question it, though. And who knows? Maybe the Ellimist was involved. Marco thinks that Jeanne might agree to go out with him soon despite the fact that it's been three years and we took a vote and agreed that it's never going to happen."

"That sounds…remarkably persistent," I said diplomatically.

"Jeanne was the only girl we took with us," Jake explained.

"So your friend Ax is alright?" I asked him, concerned. After what Rachel's death did to him, I really didn't want to see him lose another friend.

Jake nodded. "Yeah. He's a little…things are weird and he went through some stuff but I think he's going to be okay. He was actually comforting Tobias a little towards the end which can only be a good sign, right?"

"Why did Tobias need comforting?" Steve asked.

Jake looked awkward. "Well…right after we finished doing that thing that we needed to do Marco decided that he wasn't just going to sit back and watch Tobias die of old age at twenty-something and so he might have talked him into morphing human and then tricked him into staying past the limit."

I was torn. On the one hand, I hadn't thought it was at all healthy for that boy to live in the forest as a hawk and Jake was right that it would be a shame for him to die of old age when he was so young but to have his choice taken away from him like that…it didn't seem right.

"Is that…ethical?" I asked hesitantly.

"I don't know," Jake replied honestly. "Probably not but it's not like Tobias was going to do it himself. Honestly, I would have expected this more from Rachel than Marco but we were on _The Rachel_ so maybe that influenced him. Marco said he had to do this now because a twenty-two-year-old looking thirteen was bad enough but the longer it went on the more pathetic it would be."

I was shocked to hear him mention Rachel so openly. He never spoke about her before he left even if he did spend all of that time at her grave. But three years is a long time (three years for the war, three years for after with Jake, and three years for Jake to be gone) and this could only be a good sign, the fact that he was able to refer to her in such a lighthearted way.

"Did everyone make it?" Steve asked quietly.

Jake looked wistful. "It's _never_ a case of everyone making it. Never. I guess this time it wasn't so hard because I had been sort of expecting this since I agreed to go. Not that I didn't do my best to bring them all back!" He looked like it was very important that we understand this. "It's just…"

"We know, honey," I said, covering my hand with his.

"At the risk of sounding insensitive…who died?" Steve inquired. "Or can't you tell us?"

Jake hesitated. "I suppose I can tell you. Just make sure not to go spreading it around just in case."

I knew better than to be insulted by the unintentional implication that we would idly gossip about something like that.

"Of course not," I said instead.

"There was an Andalite turned human _nothlit_," Jake explained. "We couldn't save him…He knew Ax and so he was just glad that we managed to save him but I wish we could have saved him as well."

"You can't save everyone," Steve said almost automatically.

A slightly bitter smile. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. And I didn't order him to die this time, not like before. I think I'm going to be okay. Really."

"I'm just glad you're back," I said honestly.

Jake's smile turned genuine. "And I'm glad to be back."

"Promise us that you won't take off into space again," Steve practically ordered.

Jake laughed. "I'll do my best. But, you know, I hadn't really been planning on going _this_ time. But tell me how everyone here has been? Marco said that I should probably avoid his mother for awhile."

I winced. "That…might be a good idea. She wasn't…_happy_ that Marco left with you." That was putting it mildly. Eva had been quite vocal about her feelings about my son even around me so I shudder to think what she was _really_ thinking. But maybe the fact that Marco was back in one piece would help on that front. Just in case, avoiding her would probably be for the best.

"I can't think of anything really new on our front," Steve said, shrugging. Life hadn't stopped. It never did, however much you might wish it did sometimes. There would be lots of little things to fill Jake in on later but nothing important enough to warrant telling Jake about during our reunion. We had plenty of time to get into all of that later and I revelled in that fact.

But there was one thing that I thought he should know.

"Cassie broke up with Ronnie Chambers," I told him. I didn't mention the two she had had since him as they were over with as well. "Not long after you left."

I'm not naïve. I know that that ship has long since sailed and it would probably never come back (this wasn't a Jane Austen novel) but I think he should know anyway. And maybe without the awkwardness of his being the ex and her having a boyfriend they can finally talk.

Jake shrugged and I couldn't tell what he thought of the news. "Maybe I'll call her."

He always said that.

But this time I thought that maybe he actually would.

It's the End so Review Please!


End file.
